Changes on the Hellmouth
by Yoda1976
Summary: After Principal Snyder is eaten by a vampire during open house Sunnydale High gets a new principal and nothing will ever be the same for Buffy and her freinds. Rated T for safety.
1. The New Principal

_In every generation, there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the Vampires, the Demons, and the Forces of Darkness. She is the Slayer._

Ian Stone walked up to the school. He was early, most of the faculty hadn't even woken up yet, he supposed. School wasn't supposed to start until eight thirty and dawn was still an hour away, but he'd come from the Isles and hadn't fully adjusted to the new time zone. He took a deep breath of the autumn air and found it lacking the invigorating chill of his native Ireland. Back home, the trees would be starting to change colors, here they were palms, green all year because it barely got below ten degrees centigrade, or 50 in the infernal Fahrenheit that Americans clung to like out-dated, worn-out socks. He sighed, slightly depressed that he'd never see his breath in this god-forsaken town, but he had a purpose here, and Ian had never let creature comforts sway him from his purpose.

He walked into the building, and as he made his way to the office with a box of personal items, he was pleased to see the repairs from the attack had been nearly completed, however, given the history of the high school and the town in general he wasn't really surprised the local contractors were good. He headed to his new office, hoping the things the weasel that formerly occupied it had left would be gone by now and he'd be able to really get things off to a good start. He arrived at the office he sighed; most of the former principal's stuff was still there. Didn't the man have a wife to clean up after him after he was killed? Then he remembered just whom he was replacing and shook his head, no that man had never known the touch of a woman, or at least a sane one. Ian suppressed a shudder at the thought and set the box down, and he started to settle in as best as he could.

The first thing he did was look at the student files, but he didn't just start in the A's, he went through them as if looking for a specific name, and he found it, and pulled the bulging folder out of the file and laid it on his desk. He began going through it the expression on his face growing more and more dark, once he was done his face was one of near pure rage. He closed up the file of Buffy Summers and put it back in the file drawer.

* * *

"Go on in, he's expecting you," the principal's secretary said. Buffy gave her a wan smile, and opened the door. She hadn't expected for there to be a new principal for months, but here he was, only three weeks after the possibly tragic death of Principal Snyder on Parent-Teacher Night. Her mother was starting to go back to regular-mom attitude, demon and vampire activity had begun to pick back up after St. Vigeous night, and now there was a new principal. She sighed, and turned the handle. The man was standing behind the desk, which had been cleared of all things Snyderish, even the blotter. There was a box of stuff in one of the chairs, and she schooled her curiosity enough to keep from peaking the instant she saw it.

The principal had his back turned to her, but she could see he had a full head of dark hair, with maybe a tinge of red, but it was brown. The sun shining brightly through the window did give it nice highlights though. He was well muscled under his suit, which seemed to be tailored to accentuate that fact. She shook her head, wondering how someone who was a principal at a high school could afford such a thing. Or if he could, why he would take a job as a principal. He turned to her, and she could see that he had been looking through a very familiar folder—hers. "Miss Summers," he said, and his deep voice had a rumbly quality that didn't quite fit with his body. His accent was thick, but she could still understand him. "Please, have a seat."

She sat glumly, and started, "Look, I know my file looks bad…"

"Bad? Bad, you say? It looks horrific. If I believed half of what was in there, I would say that you belonged in…what do they call it here, juvie? Yes. I believe that is it," he said, stroking his beard and sitting in the chair. He threw her file on to the desk. "Fortunately, I don't believe the rubbish this Snyder slime wrote about you. Well, some of it I believe. But selectively. You were kicked out of Hemery because the gymnasium burned down."

"Yeah, I guess it was kind of my fault," she said, twisting her hands in her lap nervously.

"I somehow doubt that. Arson doesn't seem to be one of your big ideals in life, Ducky."

She looked at him like he'd lost his mind somewhere in the middle of his sentence. "No, not really," she agreed finally.

"Nor does it seem to be getting your classmates killed. Despite the fact that six of your classmates have died since you came to this school, your class has the lowest mortality rate for this school in recent memory. In fact, the school's drop out rate due to death is lower overall by at least thirty percent in the last year."

She perked up at that one. "Really?"

"Really. No one bothers to tell you that you make a difference, do they?"

Caught, she looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. "What?"

"You used to be a very good student, well above average when you came here. I understand that you are only barely passing most of your classes so far this year. Snyder was keeping very close track of you, and I will be as well."

She hung her head, not sure whether she liked this new principal or not. "That's really…"

"Absolutely necessary. You are a very important young woman. If you need help in keeping up with your classes, let me know. I am here because I intend that you walk across that stage at graduation with everyone else. If you need help with that, we need to nip it in the bud, and you need to stay up with your classes. I will arrange tutors for you as necessary. All you have to do is ask."

"Ok," she said, wanting to believe that this guy really wanted to help her out. "That's really nice of you, sir."

"Ach, don't call me 'sir,' Ducky, this 'Principal Stone' bit is going to be hard enough as it is, I think," he looked at her for a moment. "Go on, get to class. Don't need you dilly-dallying and missing more than you already do. The secretary will write you an excuse."

He folded her file up, and she stood, "Two more things. If you've got to go mitching off, drop by and tell someone, eh, and when you see Mr. Giles ask him to stop by at his earliest convenience , please?"

She simply nodded, having really no idea what he was talking about. She stopped by the secretary's desk for her excuse, then headed to see Giles before she went to class.

"Buffy, good morning," he said, adjusting his glasses.

"We have a new principal," she told him. "And he talks funny."

"What do you mean?"

"He told me that I should drop by and tell someone before I go mitching off. I don't know what he means."

"Oh," Giles said, scratching the back of his neck. "I haven't heard that in a while. Is he British by any chance?"

"He's Irish, I think," she said, wrinkling her nose and hopping up onto the counter. "He said he wanted to talk to you. What does 'mitching off' mean?"

"Oh, playing truant, uh, skipping school."

"Why would he want me to tell him if I'm skipping school?" she asked, then she grew quiet for a moment then said, "That isn't the only thing that was weird about the conversation. He talked about the student mortality rate and how it dropped and he seemed to know I was responsible for it. Giles, could he know I'm the Slayer?"

"I suppose anything is possible. What else did he say?"

"That he intends to see me graduate, he offered to get me tutors or any help I required," she paused for a moment then continued. "Giles he's up to something, he has to be!"

"Now, now Buffy, calm down. It might be that he really wants to help. What is his name?"

"His name plate said Ian Stone," pronouncing Ian with a long 'I'.

Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them, looking thoughtful, "It's Ian, actually," he said absently, pronouncing Ian with a short 'I'. "Older gentleman?"

"No, I think he's younger than you are," Buffy said and tilted her head questioning the disappointed look on Giles face at the news.

"That eliminates that possibility, then," he said, sounding as disappointed as he looked.

"What's with the mopey?"

"Uh? Oh…I just thought for a second I might know him, but that was twenty years ago and if our new principal is as young as you say there is no way it could be him. You had better get on to class."

* * *

_**London, 1977**_

Ian Stone walked into the classroom. It was his first class in some time; the Watcher Council waxed and waned in their trust in him, but had never given him enough of it to let him out into the field. He'd been stuck in the library for a couple of centuries, and had taken the time to read almost every book there. It was an impressive feat, even for an Immortal.

He held his roll sheet up, starting to read off the names. It was a mixed class. The youngest was someone still in high school; their first class. The oldest was a recent appointee to the actual Council. Most of the students were trainee Watchers, but there were enough full-fledged Watchers that the class should prove quite interesting. "Merrick Flanders?"

"Present," said one of the fledgling Watchers. They had grouped together away from the full-fledged Watchers.  
"Alfred Giles."

"Present," this from one of the older Watchers.

"Rupert Giles."

"Call me Ripper," said a bubblegum-chewing, leather-jacket clad angry teen in the front row. The previously called Alfred Giles scowled at the younger member of his family.

He nodded to 'Ripper' and went on with the roll.

After a few more names, all full-fledged Watchers, and boring to look at, he got to an interesting one, "Deirdre Page."

"Here," she waved at him. She was clad in the fashion of the time, which, in his mind, looked absolutely ridiculous. She was also firmly attached to the student he pegged as being the most problematic.

"Gwendolyn Post."

"Present," said a snippy little bird of a woman, who, despite her young appearance, was dressed in the manner that most of the full-fledged Watchers were.

"Quentin Travers."

"Present," said the gentleman he'd been told had recently been appointed to the Council.

A few more names rounded the class out to 20. It was a good number, and from the sound of it, he would be teaching another class after this one. Enrollment was always good when the Council deigned him worthy of imparting his knowledge on their young, impressionable members. "Alright, then," he said, "As I am sure you've been told when you were enrolling in this class, I am the Council's foremost expert on Slayer prophecy, and I'm here to tell you that we live in exciting times. There have been signs recently that the Council has sought for centuries. As you know, Slayers have their own form of prophecy, completely separate from prophecy about them, but that becomes intertwined in everything as well. We don't have many perfect seers around, ever, so when they come around, much of what they say is written down. In this class, we will be discussing what has been said, what has been extrapolated from what's been said, and where that ties in to what Slayer dreams have been enigmatically unfulfilled."

* * *

Ian was busy with the mundane tasks of running an American high school. He was astonished at the amount of freedom the Yanks gave their students, or maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd been a student that practices had changed. It wouldn't be the first time. One of the things he was doing was meeting with each student, in order of the thickness of their files. Partially he was doing this to make his meeting with Buffy not stand out, but secondly he really did want to make a difference for these kids. Every one of them had had a raw deal being born in Sunnydale.

There was a tap at his door, that startled him out of his reading and he said, "Enter," then smiled as the door opened, "Hello, Rupert."

Rupert hesitated, and Ian knew why. The only change in his physical appearance was the beard that he'd been growing over the last year. He sighed mentally, wondering how much longer he would have in his current persona. Not long, if the look on his old student's face was any judge. The windows were open, that was intentional, the sunlight streaming in happened to be hitting the bare flesh of his hands.

"What are you?" Giles asked.

"Please, come in, shut the door and sit down," he said. Giles shut the door and went over to a chair, but didn't sit. Ian sighed and continued. "I understand that you have the respect of a number of the students. I have heard nothing but praise for you as a helpful, caring member of this staff."

"Really? And to whom have you been speaking?"

"Oh, I thought I would start with the most…troubled students first. Buffy Summers has the thickest file I've ever seen for any student, even yours, and she's only been here a year. The file does not contain anything from her previous school other than her transcript, and a short description of the incident that got her expelled."

"Yes, Principal Snyder did not care for Buffy in the slightest, but why does she interest you so much?"

"She's the Slayer, there's more but it will have to wait for just a moment," Ian said.

"No, it won't wait for just a moment, I'm her Watcher…wait, the Council didn't send you to…?"

"No, no nothing like that, Rupert. The Council doesn't know I'm even here. I must say I'm in rather bad odor with them at the moment," Ian said, and allowed a small smile to come to his face at Giles' look of relief.

"Then why are you here? Buffy is obviously at the heart of whatever it is."

Ian sighed, this wasn't going the way he'd hoped, yet maybe this would be better, "Very well, it has to do with why I was sacked, Rupert."

"They sacked you? You were the foremost expert on Slayer prophecies!"

"I still am, and they sacked me because they are a bunch of pompous, sexists windbags that can't wipe themselves after taking a shit without feeling overly self-important about the matter," and Ian smiled as Giles stifled a chuckle. No he hadn't read Rupert Giles wrong at all, and was pleased that the last bit of capital he'd had with the Council had been so well spent in getting him named as Miss Summer's Watcher.

"Well, be that as it may, it doesn't explain what you are doing in Sunnydale, or why you haven't aged a day since I last saw you," Giles said after regaining his composure.

"Now back to the matter I wanted to deal with first. I need to tell you this, not because I really want to, but because you deserve an explanation as to why your old teacher isn't old and gray and ready to be put out to pasture. It should be self-evident that I happen to be immortal," Ian said.

"So you haven't aged in how long?" Giles asked.

"Since the Battle of Cúl Dreimhne in the Year of our Lord 561. I was twenty-one years old, or at least according to my parents I was 21. Records weren't the science they are today back then."

"What happened?" Giles asked, finally sitting down.

"Columba copied a book, the owner of the book didn't like it, and the High King agreed with the book's owner and three thousand strapping lads were slaughtered in what has to be the most senseless battle in the history of warfare. It was on the blood soaked ground of Cúl Dreimhne that I was first slain. I was with Columba's kin's forces. The battle lasted for hours and I very nearly survived, just as the fight was winding down I got pierced by a spear. It pierced my heart and I bled out very quickly. I was probably dead for three or four hours. Fortunately they hadn't gotten around to burying me before I woke up."

"That must have been awful," Giles said.

"At first I thought I was just lucky, then I found my family and they were so scared. My father held a cross up. He thought I was a vampire, of course…well it's a long story and we have more important things to talk about."

"Do you know how it happened?" Giles asked.

"No, I don't know why I can't die but I have yet to suffer an injury that I haven't fully recovered from. I don't even scar, yet I have to eat, breathe and everything else that comes with a mortal life, I also have all the benefits of a mortal life save one."

"What is that?" Giles asked.

"As far as I know I can never father children. I have been married three times in the fifteen hundred years I've been alive and never fathered one child."

"I'm sorry, Ian," Giles said.

"Don't, Rupert. I've made my peace with it a long time ago. I've adopted a number of times to fill that void."

"Yet all of your friends, lovers, everyone you've ever known…you're doomed to see them all grow old and frail and pass to dust while you remain young and strong. I can't imagine what that must be like."

"You can't, not unless you happen to live for fifteen hundred years. Yet there are benefits, I've done things, seen things that most men dare not even dream of. Especially in most of the eras I've lived in. Anyway, we have a Slayer to discuss," Ian said with a note of finality.

"Yes, of course. What is it about Buffy that you wish to discuss?"

"First I want to say I'm impressed with the job you've done with her. You haven't tried to toe the Council's line on Slayers with her and I think it shows. Secondly I want to break even more of the Council's rules with her, if you are agreeable."

"Just what did you have in mind?" Giles said, smiling a little at the praise, then as Ian explained just what he intended to do Giles smile faded and by the time Ian was finished his jaw was nearly in his lap.

* * *

It was lunch and Xander grabbed the least offensive looking option, and today that was a baked potato. The hamburgers didn't look bad either, so he grabbed one of those. A few condiments and he would be good. He looked around, finding his favorite redhead at a table by herself, and so he grabbed what he needed and headed over to sit by her.

"Hi," she said as she noticed him, smiling as he sat down.

"Hi. So you hear that we have a new principal?"

"Yeah," Buffy said as she sat down, "Mister weird."

"Uh, I heard his name was Mister Stone," Xander put in.

"Yeah, I met with him a little while ago," Willow said.

"I had a note to go see him waiting for me in my first class," Buffy groaned.

"Wow, so you got to see him before me," Will said. "He's kind of young, don't you think?"

"He kinda looks like he's just out of college," Buffy agreed.

"Whoa, our new principal is like only a few years older than us?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, but he was, like, obsessively weird," Buffy told him. "Let's talk about something else, though. What are you doing for Halloween?"

"Well, that depends, what are you doing, Buffy?" Will asked.

"Probably crashing with the staying in and stuff. Giles says that Halloween is really quiet. I don't even have to patrol."

"We should do something together," Will said.

"Yeah, like get together and watch really bad horror movies on TV at Will's house," Xander said.

"That could be fun, but I think my parents are having a party. Maybe Buffy's house?"

"I don't think Mom will be having a party, so maybe, I'll ask."

"So, about this new principal of ours, what's he like?"

"He seemed really nice to me. He just asked me a couple of questions, and, well, I sort of babbled," Willow said, ringing her hands.

"What did you say?" Buffy asked seriously, putting her hand on Willow's arm.

"I talked about Giles, he asked. and that was about it. Oh, and if I liked my classes."

"That was all?" Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose. "He didn't ask me anything."

"That's probably because he actually read your file before he met with you. He was kind of surprised that I was a good student," Will told them.

"Do you think he's going to be interested in talking to me?" Xander asked, horrified.

"Probably." Giles said, coming up behind them. " Mr. Stone is very thorough. A word, Buffy?"

"Hey, what's up, library man?" Xander asked.

"Oh, Principal Stone needs to talk to Buffy."

"Again?" Buffy asked.

"This should be the last time today, at least," Giles told them. Buffy rolled her eyes and got up, taking her sandwich with her.

* * *

"Thank you for coming down to see me Mrs. Summers, I know its short notice but I did want to discuss Buffy with you," Ian said.

"She's not in trouble is she?" Joyce almost groaned.

"No, of course not. Charming young lady as a matter a fact, definitely your influence no doubt. What gave you the idea…oh, yes…the incident at Hemery, rest assured Mrs. Summers that I will not judge Buffy on that incident unlike the self-important, odious toad Snyder. Forgive me. Characterizing him that way was out of line, and insulting to self-important odious toads."

"I'm relieved to hear that, Mr. Stone, and call me Joyce please," Joyce said, with a radiant smile and Ian felt his heart skip a beat at it. It occurred to him as she smiled she was a rather striking woman.

"Of course…Joyce. Now I did want to review a plan to keep Buffy up on her school work now that with the herculean efforts of both Miss Rosenberg and Buffy she is caught up on except for two classes," Ian said handing over Buffy's transcript to Joyce.

"I knew Willow was helping Buffy, but this is an amazing turn around for her," Joyce said, the smile warming.

"Even more so considering just how much class time she misses," Ian said.

"She's been missing class time?" Joyce said, the smile crashing.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Not because she wants to miss it mind you, but because she has to," Ian said seriously.

"What do you mean has to? Is she involved in some extracurricular activity I don't know about?" Joyce asked, confused.

"What do you know about this school's mortality rate?" Ian asked.

"Never really thought about it, why? Is it higher than average?" Joyce asked.

"You could say that."

"How much higher?" Joyce asked.

"Sunnydale High had the highest student mortality rate of all high schools in the United States last year. Here are the statistics, of course feel free to double check the numbers yourself."

"What does this have to do with Buffy?" Joyce asked.

"Everything. These are the student mortality rates for this year, Joyce. They are a third lower than this time last year. Also look at the numbers from the time Buffy started attending Sunnydale High, there is a steep drop in student deaths starting practically from the day she started attending."

"What are you saying Mr. Stone?"

"Ian, please. What I'm saying Joyce is that Buffy has been instrumental in lowering those numbers. She's saving lives and that is why she misses classes," Ian said.

"Open House…the PCP gang? She helps stop them?" Joyce asked.

"That wasn't a gang on PCP. They were vampires," Ian said.

Joyce looked up as if she'd been slapped, "What did you say?"

"It might be best if Buffy was here for the rest of our conversation."

* * *

Giles wasn't sure that Buffy was entirely ready for what Ian was about to put her through, but with Ian backing him, it was possible that he could finally stand up to the Council where she was concerned.

The Council had not raised her from the time she was very young—as they had with so many other Slayers. They had identified her after she was called. It made her hard to work with, stubborn, untrusting of him and the motives of the Council, un-accepting of her destiny.

There was much that she was so unlike any other Slayer that he'd read about. "So what does he want to talk about that was important enough to interrupt lunch?"

"Oh. Principal Stone asked to see you. He thought it better to not pull you out of class again."

"Oh," she said, then after a pause, "But what does he want with me now?"

"Something about your duties and responsibilities, I think."

"Ok, wait. Did you talk to him?"

"Yes, of course I did. He's been part of the Watcher Council for some time."

"So he knows."

"Yes."

"And that's ok?"

"It's, well, he won't be giving you to the Vampires, at least."

"Do you trust him?"

"I have much to think about on that subject, but if he stays true to the plans for you he was telling me, then I think this will be a good thing, if such a thing ever happens on the Hellmouth."

"He has plans for me? Why do I get this sinking feeling at that thought?"

"Because you are a suspicious girl, a quality that has probably saved your life on numerous occasions and a trait I fully intend to foster. However, I think you overreacting in this case."

"But we are going to talk to him," she quickly stepped in front of him, stopping him. "Giles, this is a Bad Idea."

"Buffy, that is enough. At least give him a chance, will you?"

"Ok, I'll give him a chance. With luck he'll be eaten like the last two principals we've had," she said as she fell back into step with him.

"Buffy!"

"I'm sorry, I'll be good. I'll try to give him a chance. But if he turns into a giant bug or slimy thing can I kill him?"

"With my blessing," Giles said, sounding long suffering.

"Yay!" Buffy said, bouncing just a little, and a smile coming to her face for the first time since they had left the cafeteria. The smile disappeared when they opened the door to the office and Buffy saw her mother.

"Ah, good man, Rupert! Found our girl and brought her just in time. Capital, just capital." Mr. Stone said.

"Thank you, Ian. I do pride myself on my punctuality," Giles said.

"Glad to hear it, when you were in school, that wasn't quite the case if I remember," Mr. Stone said, and a chill ran down Buffy's spine.

"Mr. Giles used to teach you, Ian?" her mother said.

"No, Mrs. Summers. It was the other way around. Ian is older than he looks...much older," Giles said.

"Giles, what's going on? Why is my mother here?" Buffy asked, turning angrily on her Watcher.

"I think I can answer that, Buffy. I've been going over your history with your mother," Mr. Stone started.

"I knew it, I knew it. Your just like Snyder...no, your worse than Snyder. Snyder never pretended for one minute that he did anything but despise me. What is it with you guys anyway?"

Mr. Stone stared at Buffy for a few moments, seemingly at a loss of words, then said, "Well, Ducky...it seems Mr. Snyder earned his death in more ways than I even knew about for you to have this level of hostility. I wasn't talking about your grades, or what Mr. Snyder put into your file, most of which I believe to be Slayer-related or utter and complete bilge. What I was sharing with your mother was what we talked about at our first meeting," Mr. Stone said, sounding truly concerned.

Buffy hung her head and said, "I'm sorry...that was uncalled for and I...wait, you TOLD my MOTHER!" her eyes flashed with fire as she looked up at him.

"Not everything, or rather not yet. I wanted you here when we gave her the 'One girl in all the world' speech."

"What are you talking about, Ian?" her mother asked.

"Well…Buffy is…" Mr. Stone began but was cut off by Buffy.

"Please, let me tell her."

"Very well, Ducky. It is your destiny after all," Mr. Stone said, sounding—of all things—a little hurt. He sat down, settling back in his chair with his hands folded into his lap.

"Mom, remember back in L. A. when I started talking about vampires and everything?"

"No…not this again, Buffy. The doctors said you'd given up those fantasies," her mother said, sounding disappointed.

Buffy looked very hurt, crumpled, and Ian leaned forward, looking very directly at Joyce, "They aren't fantasies, Joyce," Mr. Stone said, suddenly sounding much older than he looked.

"You believe this, too?" her mother said.

"Yes, Mrs. Summers, he does because it's true," Giles spoke up, his voice soft.

Buffy knelt before her mother, "Mom, listen to me. I am the Vampire Slayer. The one girl in all the world..."

"I love this part," Mr. Stone said, then wilted as Buffy shot him a look, "Fine, fine, I'll be quiet."

"Thank you," Buffy said, rolling her eyes then continued, "The one girl in all the world with the strength and skill to defeat the Vampires and the demons and the forces of Darkness."

"I don't believe this…" her mother said.

"Mom…this isn't easy for me, I wanted to tell you for a long time, but the rules, which I'm assuming we are throwing out the window now," she paused for a quick look up at Giles, and with a nod from him, she continued, "forbid it."

"You are all insane…Buffy, go to the car. I'm taking you…"

Buffy stood, crossing her arms. "No, Mom. I need to stay here. I've done a lot of good. Remember the night Principal Snyder was killed?"

"Yes, the gang on PCP."

"They weren't on PCP, they were vampires."

"No...it can't be true," she was starting to look a little shell-shocked, and Giles was getting concerned that this was not precisely the way this needed to be going.

"Joyce, if you please...I think I have a demonstration that will provide some evidence that what Buffy is telling you is the truth. As the Slayer, she is gifted with great strength. Far greater than any girl of her stature should be able to achieve. If you would please, try and lift my desk," Mr. Stone said, again sounding much older than he looked.

"Ok…I don't know what it'll prove, this thing must weigh a hundred pounds easy," her mother positioned herself to get the best leverage on the desk, to her credit she was able to lift one end up about an inch. "Ugh…what do you keep in that thing? Lead bricks?"

"No, badly behaved students," Mr. Stone said and withered under the glares, "Blimey…Snyder really was a killjoy wasn't he?" This he directed more at Giles, who again nodded.

"I suppose you want me to lift the desk now, right?" Buffy said, ignoring the comment.

"Well, well, beauty and brains. I bet the blokes at this school are just beating down your locker to carry your books."

"Not so much. The whole hanging around graveyards tends to scare away potential boyfriend material," Buffy said as she took her mother's former position and lifted the desk over her head with one hand, holding it like a serving tray. "Is this impressive enough?"

"Yes…very good Buffy," Giles said. Her mother's only response was to stare.

Buffy sat the desk back down and took her seat again, "Now do you believe me?" she asked her mother.

"I need a drink," her mother said. Buffy got up and got some water out of the cooler, the cone shaped paper cup dripped a little from the bottom. She handed it to her mother.

"Thank you, sweetheart, but I think I need something a little stronger than water," her mother said, drinking the water anyway. Then Mr. Stone reached behind his desk and produced a bottle of scotch.

"I think this will help, Joyce," he said as he poured her a shot of the amber liquid. She took the shot and downed it in a quick swallow.

"Thank you Ian."

"Are we done here? I do have class," Buffy said.

"Not quite yet, there is one more matter we need to discuss," Mr. Stone said turning and unlocking a filing cabinet, he opened it and pulled out maybe five or six sheets of paper, legal sized with tiny type on them.

"First we need to discuss your back pay," Mr. Stone said, flipping through the pages, he then looked confused, turned back to the file cabinet and snapped his fingers and produced another piece of paper.

"Back pay?" Buffy and her mother asked simultaneously.

"Yes, it's criminal that the Council doesn't pay you. That, among other opinions, is why I was sacked. As I wasn't able to get the Council to do right by the Slayers, I figured I might as well do it myself. As such I've created a fund, one that is self sustaining and fairly well impervious to the whims of the global economy, to pay you. Now unfortunately, so many Slayers don't have families, having been raised by the Council and when they die there's no one left to give their back pay to. You however, Ducky, are still very much alive and therefore entitled to back pay to the date you were first called. This check is a little bit over what is actually owed you by the formula I've come up with, but we can count that as interest against the delay. Here you go," Mr. Stone finally finished and handed Buffy the check-shaped piece of paper, it was indeed a check and Buffy looked at her Principal in shock.

* * *

_**London, 1978**_

Ian was somewhat troubled as his class was winding down to a close, He hadn't gotten any sort of a response from his request for what he called the basic ethical treatment of the Slayers. Their newest slayer was a baby—fifteen—and she'd been raised by the Council in the 'proper' way, and didn't think that asking for anything was right. She was, in Ian's estimation, a slave, and he'd told the Council.

Quentin Travers came up to him. "What can I do for you, Quentin?" he asked, noting idly that he was losing his brogue a bit again. It was time to go home for a little while where people spoke properly.

"The Council wanted me to inform you that you will be relieved of your duties as soon as this class is over pending an investigation of your pernicious ideas, to see if we require your further services."

Ian sighed. He had never pissed the Council off this badly before, but it just wasn't right, the way they were treating this poor girl. She was being constantly compared to Nikki—hell, she'd been the Slayer for nearly a year and he hadn't even heard the girl's actual name. Crowley had come back from New York a broken man, and Ian could understand why. Nikki had been his shining star for seven years. "Seven by seven, and on the third shall she die."

"What?" Quentin asked.

"Nikki. It's the start of the prophecy of her death. It was unfortunate that no one believed me when I said it two months before she died."

"Well, be that as it may, I think that you are finished here. Your ideas are dangerous."

"What? That the Slayer should be treated as a human being?" he asked, and he was almost yelling.

A small scuffing sound alerted them to the presence of another person in the room. "Oh, sorry, just forgot my books," Ripper said.

"That's alright, Mr. Giles. If you could run along now," Quentin said.

"Right then, cheerio," he said and hurried out of the door.

"Yes. The Slayer has been regarded for generations as something more and less than human. Born to humans, but apart from that life."

"Does that mean you think that Robin was an incorrect decision for Nikki?" Ian asked. Robin was a bit of a sore spot with the Council; Crowley had hidden her pregnancy and her affair from the Council, and was now taking the boy to raise, retiring from active Council life. "Or would you have rather had her abort her child?"

"I know as an Irishman you have strong opinions about abortion, but considering her duties, I think, yes, that might have been a good option for her."

"Not as an Irishman, as a man. I do not like the idea of killing a child because the child is inconvenient. I have no children of my own, Quentin. Did you know that?"

"I didn't, but it still doesn't negate the fact that by getting pregnant, Nikki Woods was negligent in her duties."

"And how do you think Robin would feel about that?"

Quentin did at least have the good grace to look appalled at that notion. "It doesn't matter; what's done is done. He will make a good ally in the fight against evil, since that appears to be what Crowley is planning for the boy."

"Yes, best not to think about those things that don't fit into your little world. Best not to think that we could have saved the best Slayer we've had in several generations from William the frigging Bloody. Best not to think that Robin could have his mother right now if someone had bloody listened to me."

* * *

Buffy moved mechanically through the rest of her day, fortunately, there were only two more classes, and, even more fortunately, two that she was doing well in.

She put her books into her locker; she could get them before she left if she could actually get into the spirit of homework, if not, well, then it wouldn't much matter if she had her books or not. She walked to the library, but Giles wasn't there. Willow was, and Xander walked in not far behind her. "Hey, Buffy," Willow said, looking up from a book.

"Hi," she said back.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Buffy, what's with the glum?" Xander asked her.

"Oh," she said, shaking herself and smiling, "I'm, I'm good."

"How did your meeting with the principal go?" Xander asked her.

She sat down, and started talking, but it was very devoid of the normal bounce in her voice, "Mom was there, and, Mr. Stone, he's kind of like a rogue Watcher guy, and he's kind of talked Giles into going along with him—at least for now—and he told Mom about the Slayer stuff. Then he told me that he thought I should be paid for being the Slayer."

"Well, that's good. Paid for killing vampires," Willow said. "So how much are they paying you?"

"Well, a lot. I'm not sure exactly. But he gave me a check for the back pay that he thinks I deserve from the day I was called, and I didn't hear much after that. He and Mom kind of hammered out the details, while I kind of stared at the check."

"Do you have it?"

"Have what?"

"The check. I want to see it," Willow said.

"Oh," Buffy said, shaking her head, then brushing her hair back from her face again, she reached down and fished it out of her purse. "Here," she handed the thing to Willow like it was burning her.

Will's eyes bugged out. "How long is this for?"

"A year and a half. Since I was called," She told them, and watched as Willow handed the check to Xander. The part of Xander's brain that translated 'boy' into 'English' stopped functioning, and he mouthed noises at her for a few minutes while she watched him, amused.

"That...that...that is a whole LOTA zeros, they even come before the decimal point!" Xander finally got out.

"Yes, it is. He had me sign a contract that basically said that I would acquire a high school diploma for continued employment in 'Maraíonn Sí.'" Buffy said.

"What happens if you don't?" Xander asked.

"I forfeit all future wages until such time as I fulfill the requirement," Buffy said.

"Oh, that is evil...offer to pay you then say you have to graduate high school before you see any of it. I am incensed at this," Xander said.

"Calm down, I have until the June after my 18th birthday to acquire said diploma. He's offered to get me any help I need to keep up, but I have to do the work myself,"

"That's wonderful Buffy!" Willow said.

"Yeah...now that I've had time to digest everything that's happened today I think you're right. This has been a good day, a bit surreal, but good. In fact, I feel like celebrating! We are so going to the Bronze tonight," Buffy said.

"I'm afraid that is going to have to wait," Giles said as he entered the library.

"Why?" Buffy said.

"You have to patrol tonight. I'm sorry Buffy, I understand your desire to celebrate your good fortune, and under other circumstances, I would fully endorse your doing so. Unfortunately a Miss Vanderdorf was buried today and from what my contacts in the morgue say it was definitely a vampire attack, she may rise tonight," Giles said as he opened the door to his office, retrieving his fighting gear.

"Is anyone else creeped out by the fact the G-man has contacts in the morgue?" Xander asked, only to get hit on the arm by Buffy, "Ow!"

"Which cemetery Giles?" Buffy asked, disappointed, but business was business.

"East street, and I think it would be a good idea for you to take your mother."

"My mother, on a patrol?"

"She won't fully accept this until she sees you in action, Buffy. Besides you take Xander and Willow all the time," Giles said.

"Fine...you win," Buffy said.

"Very good, now lets get to training, shall we?"

* * *

"It'll probably be a while, Mom."

"Well, I've never done this before," Joyce told her daughter from the chair that she had insisted on bringing, despite the fact that Buffy had told her that she would be fine sitting on the gravestones. Joyce had insisted it was totally improper. "So she comes out of the grave?"

"Yep. She just crawls right up out of the ground."

"And then what?"

"Kick, punch, ground, stake, dust," Buffy said with a huge grin.

"So do you enjoy your work?" Joyce asked, resting her chin on the big wooden cross that Buffy had given her for protection.

"There's a lot of fighting with it, and it's an adrenaline rush, and there's danger, but, yeah, I actually like it a lot. As a bonus, I get to save people. Good people. Willow and Xander people."

"Is there a down side?"

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly, "When I don't save the people. Jesse people. Sheila people."

"Who are they?"

"Sheila was my biggest competition, according to Snyder, for the worst student in the high school. She stabbed the Horticulture teacher with pruning sheers. I had to dust her on Parent-Teacher night. Jesse was Xander's best friend, and the first week of school last year, Jesse got vamped. Xander was the one who had to stake him."

"That's awful, Sweetheart. Is this really that dangerous?"

"Sometimes," she said, ducking her head. She was quiet for a long moment while she stared off into the distance. "Slayers don't have great life expectancies."

Joyce shifted uncomfortably. "What's it like to be the Slayer? I know you are stronger than most girls."

"It's different. There's the super-strength, and better hearing, faster reflexes, super healing, bad guy detectiness."

"Super healing?"

"Yeah. Not that I've tested it, but Giles says that I can break about every bone in my body and be back to better in like a week."

"That sounds awful, Buffy."

"Sometimes it's a good thing. Drugs run through my system much faster," she tilted her head to one side, "It also sucks sometimes because my metabolism runs faster, too."

"I know. I pay the grocery bill," Joyce said. "I had wondered how you could eat so much and not gain weight. About the drugs, how do you know?"

"Um," she twisted her hands, looking down at them. "I kind of was at a frat party a couple of Fridays ago and almost got eaten by a demon as a sacrifice. It's why all those companies started failing last week."

"What happened?"

"They were making sacrifices to this demon, Machida, human sacrifices, like, three girls every year for like the last 50 years. I ran it off, but they drugged me to tie me up in the basement for the sacrifice."

"Now that the demon is gone, what happens?"

"Oh, the people who were getting whatever kind of power that they were getting start paying for it and they don't usually do so good after that."

"So, being the Slayer, how did this happen, how did it start?"

"Don't really know. But it's been going on for a long time."

"You can't get out of it?"

"I could die."

"Buffy, that's not funny."

"It's true, though. That's the way that a new Slayer gets called. The old one dies. New one is called. That's how it works."

"Alright. Let's talk about something more pleasant. Like your finances."

"I don't want to talk about finances."

"You are going to have to at some point. Why not now?"

"Still processing the fact that I'm getting paid $20,000 a week here."

"Well, that's a good thing though. Do you think you want to invest the money?"

"I don't know, Mom. I kind of was hoping," she hung her head a little, pausing. "That maybe you could help me?"

"I am glad you asked for help, but I don't know how much help I'm going to be. This is a new level for me too."

"It's kinda scary."

"The slaying?"

"No, well, yes that can get scary, but having this much money...what am I supposed to do with it?"

"I suppose anyone that gets to the point of making that kind of money as quickly as you have ask that question, sweetheart."

"Like who?"

"Actors, athletes, most of them come from backgrounds not too different from yours or Willow's and Xander's. Not all of them get the answer right either."

"That implies there is a right answer."

"I suppose so, what worries you most about it?"

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to live up to the trust that Mr. Stone is placing in me by giving me this much money."

"Oh, Honey," Joyce said getting up, "I'm so proud to hear you say that, furthermore hearing you say it gives me confidence that you'll do the right things with it."

"Thanks, Mom," she said as she gave her Mom a hug, she pulled back only to see pure terror in her mother's eyes.

"Buffy...I think its time for you to go to work..." her mother said.

"Huh? OH!" Buffy said and turned, a feral grin spreading on her face.

"I've always liked this town, the delivery places are always so...prompt." the fledgling vampire said.

"Sorry, I'm not take out," Buffy quipped and just before she moved forward she heard a voice she'd hoped not to hear again.

"Tsk, tsk, Slayer. It's rather rude to start the party before all the guests have arrived," Spike said coming out from behind a tree, five other vampires quickly started to surround Buffy and her mother.

"Spike...I should have known. You planned this didn't you?" Buffy asked.

"Of course I did! You didn't think I wouldn't be back did you?"

"A girl can always hope."

"I don't give up that easily, Slayer, and tonight I will drink you down and it will be SO SWEET!"

"Come on then, if you think you can take me, leave your goon squad out of it," Buffy said.

"You expect me to play fair?" Spike said with a laugh. "Where the hell is the fun in that?"

With that, Buffy moved and quickly staked the unsuspecting fledgling, only to be surrounded by four of Spike's goons. Buffy dropped and leg swept all four to the ground. "Looks like they need more practice Spike," Buffy said coming up only to see the fifth vampire grab her mother and bite. "NO!"

* * *

Xander stood, twirling the straw in his drink, with Willow sitting beside him at their accustomed table near the foot of the stairs at the Bronze. Well, that was, when they weren't on some of the couches. It was a comfortable scene, overall, there were some people on the dance floor, and 'The Dingoes Ate My Baby' were playing a song, "She Knows…"

"I wish Buffy was here," Willow said.

"Yeah, the Buffster would be great for laughs right about now. Too bad she's on Mom-patrol tonight."

"Yeah. I guess it would probably be kind of hard to not do. Maybe she'll show later, you, know, after."

"Yeah. Do you think she'd bring her Mom, since they are being all friend-y?"

"No, I don't think so. Mrs. Summers doesn't seem like the Bronze type."

"Don't you just love the band?" Cordelia gushed as she came up to their table.

"And the night just keeps getting better. To what do we owe this astounding pleasure?" Xander asked.

"Well, if you must know, Harmony is at home, wretchedly sick, Aphrodesia is grounded until she can stop flunking French and Gwen's parents took her to Aspen with them."

"So none of your minions are around to faun over you, and you decided that you should come torment us?"

"Ha ha. Now where is Buffy? She is only marginally cool, but since there is no one actually cool here tonight, other than my boyfriend, of course, I thought I would hang with her while Devon sings."

"Oh, she's out with her mom," Willow said. "But she might be by later tonight."

"Well, what are they doing? It can't be more important than her social life, can it?"

"You know, Cordelia," Xander said, slinging his arm around her shoulders, "Life is not all parties and dancing." Cordelia gave him the look. He dropped his arm, and lost his smile. "Buffy's patrolling and she took her mom with her."

"So she'll be by later?"

"Possibly. She has a little celebrating to do. Apparently, being the Slayer actually pays now."

"Really? And how's that? Do the vampires leave their wallets behind now?"

"Xander, I don't think you're supposed to tell," Willow said, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Buffy is much more interested in the Slayer aspect of Slaying than in the huge paycheck that she gets because of it," Xander turned his back on Cordelia, "So, Will. Do you think Buffy is going to show?"

"Depends. Vampires aren't exactly punctual you know, and if Angel shows up...she might be out all night!" Willow said getting excited at the prospect of hearing the juicy details from Buffy.

Xander sighed. "Buffy and Angel won't be making out Will."

"Why not?" Willow said sounding disappointed.

"Her Mother is with her, remember?"

"Oh...yeah. That's right. Kinda hard to make out with your main squeeze with your mother watching."

"Angel isn't Buffy's main squeeze!"

"Yet." Willow said with certainity.

"How much are you saying that she's getting paid, anyway?" Cordelia asked as she pulled a chair up to the opposite side of the table and tried to get the attention back on who it belonged, namely her.

"Alot, like one...," Xander said, and Willow punched him on the arm. "Hey!"

"Xander, we don't know if Buffy wants us to tell anybody about this, or if she has even thought about who she should tell or how much she wants to tell or if getting a check for a million and a half dollars is going to change her life, or if she even wants it to change her life, or if she's going to do anything with it, or if she is going to just be Buffy."

"Will, you're babbling."

Cordelia just stared wide eyed and slack jawed, "A miiiiilllllioooonnnnn and..."

Xander looked back and forth between Willow and Cordelia and smiled. "Hey Will...we finally did it! Cordelia is totally speechless!"

* * *

Angel sprinted the last few steps as he saw that Spike's people were already circling into position around Buffy and Joyce, getting his game face on. "NO!" Buffy screamed as one of Spike's minions grabbed Joyce from behind. Angel pulled a stake and dusted him, grabbing her and keeping her from falling, but lowering her to the ground nonetheless. He could smell the blood seeping out from the bite, but she would be fine once they got her out of the situation.

"Sorry I'm late," Angel said, joining Buffy.

"Seems to me you're right on time," Buffy said launching herself at the goons, Angel not far behind. Buffy did a snap kick to the face of the first goon she got to, then while he was stunned, she dropped fast, pulled him to the ground, and staked him as he hit the ground, dusting him. Angel exchanged punches three or four times with the second, when the third vampire threw Angel down and moved to stake him as Buffy moved in on the second. Angel closed his eyes and waited for oblivion only to be showered by dust and be greeted by the surreal sight of Buffy's mother holding a stake.

"Thanks!" he said.

"I owed you," she said.

Angel got up just in time to see Buffy finish off the last of Spike's goons. "Well, this is not any fun anymore. I suppose you and Peaches win another round, Slayer. Don't worry though, I will be back!" Spike said and as near vanished as possible.

"Should we go after him?" Angel asked as his face morphed back to its normal state.

"No...he's doing the bad-movie-guy I'll-be-back thing, besides, I think Mom has questions. Ones best answered back home where we can get a bandage on that bite," Buffy said.

"I agree. Vampires don't carry rabies, do they?" her mother asked.

Buffy looked at Angel and he shrugged. "It's been known to happen."

The two women looked at each other. "Ew!" they said in unison.

* * *

A woman lurked outside Sunnydale High, watching from across the street as the new principal got into his car, driving off. She turned to watch as he moves down the street, and her profile is unremarkable. Pretty, an average nose, deep brown eyes, long straight hair, dishwater blonde, someone no one would look at twice passing her on the street.

She smiled, and headed for a motorcycle parked a block away in a residential area.

* * *

Joyce was not sure why her daughter insisted on using the water she had in a vial instead of using rubbing alcohol on the wound, but she humored Buffy. "So, vampires."

"Yeah," she said, dabbing more of the water onto the wound. "The Holy Water doesn't hurt?"

"No more than anything else would at this point," she said. Buffy put the cap back on the bottle, setting it carefully away from Angel.

Angel had out tape and gauze pads, which he'd gotten ready while Buffy fussed with the Holy Water. "Thanks," she said cheerily to him, taking the items that she needed as she needed them.

"So, about the rabies," Joyce said to Angel.

"Oh, I doubt you will have to worry about it. Spike's minions mostly feed on humans, so they will be clean. It's the more feral vampires that you have to worry about, the ones that live in the woods and feed off of animals and the occasional stray human," he said, "Not that you will probably have much to worry about. Biting is much more about the vampire getting blood than the victim getting anything."

"Why does that not really make me feel better?" Joyce said, her mind reeling with dozens, no, hundreds of questions.

"Sorry," Angel said.

"Its ok. This whole day has been...well a little crazy."

"I know, Mom," Buffy said as she finished dressing the wound.

"So...I assume you aren't a college student, Angel."

"No, I'm not, you've seen what I am."

"So are there other good vampires?" Joyce asked.

"To the best of my knowledge I'm the only one." Angel said.

"So why are you like the others?"

"He has a soul, Mom. He's the only vampire to have one that I'm aware of or that Giles is too," Buffy said.

"So have you always had a soul?"

"No, I was born with one of course. There was a time I was human just as you are. Then I was brought into the darkness and I lost my soul as every vampire does. After I was changed I did horrible things, terrible things. Things that have haunted me for a long time."

Joyce felt a pang of sympathy for the vampire before her, "So how did you get your soul back?"

"Gypsies. I had killed one of their favored members and her family cursed me with a soul so that I would live the rest of my days as a guilt racked wretch, and I was one for a long time, until I found a purpose."

"And what purpose is that?"

"Buffy, my purpose is her, and her mission. I guess you could say I'm trying to make up for the evil I've done in some small way."

The way he said that made Joyce more than a little nervous for Buffy's sake, not because she thought Angel would ever physically hurt Buffy, or even intentionally hurt her emotionally, but the fact was he might do the latter regardless of what he wanted to do. However, that was a problem to deal with another time, it wasn't pressing and she needed more information from Angel before she could even think about how to deal with it anyway. "How old are you, Angel?"

"I'm 244."

"Is that from your human birth or just the time since you became a vampire?"

"From the time I became a vampire. I was born as a human in 1727."

"How old were you when you were changed?"

"Twenty-six."

Joyce nodded, her concern only growing with every revelation, but there would be time later for this problem, besides whatever problems he represented, he did relieve her biggest concern. "Thank you for helping us tonight, Angel, and thank you for looking after my little girl."

"Your welcome, now my turn to play twenty questions, just why were you out there with Buffy tonight in the first place?" Angel asked.

"I told her. Or, rather, Principal Stone told her. Oh, I'm getting paid now!" Buffy said, her face perking up for the first time since they had gotten home.

"Paid? I thought the Watcher's Council didn't pay the Slayer," Angel said.

"The Council isn't. Principal Stone is." Joyce said.

"How much is he paying you?" Angel asked.

"One million dollars a year, after taxes," Buffy said, causing the vampire to do a double take.

"How much?" Angel said in obvious shock.

"One million US dollars, after taxes," Joyce said again for her daughter who was too busy rolling on the floor in peals of laughter at Angel's expression, a grin coming to her own face unbidden.

"Wow...well I better go, its getting late," Angel said, and Joyce looked at the clock on the wall and saw he was right, it was already past midnight.

"Yes...I need to get some sleep, I'm not going to be worth anything in the morning. Do you want to stay the night Angel?" Joyce asked.

"I better not, Mrs. Summers. I don't think you want me stuck here all day while Buffy's at school and you're at work," Angel said.

"Why would you be..." Joyce began, only to be cut off by Buffy.

"Mom...the sun, if he goes out into direct sunlight he's an instant barbeque."

"Oh...I'm sorry Angel. I wasn't thinking," Joyce said.

"Its ok, Mrs. Summers. I'll see you tomorrow, Buffy. Good night Mrs. Summers," Angel said and went to the door Buffy following him to the door. She opened it for him and hugged and kissed him before he left confirming Joyce's worst fears. Joyce sighed, he was a really nice man, and really everything Joyce would hope for a first boyfriend for Buffy...except for the fact that he was older than the nation Buffy was born in, and dead, and apparently couldn't go out in daylight, and probably a whole list of things Joyce was too tired to try to think of at this point.

"Night, Mom!" Buffy said cheerfully as she headed upstairs.

"Night, sweetheart," Joyce called back, then started for bed herself.

* * *

Angel looked both ways as he crossed the street in front of the high school. The area appeared to be deserted, but that really didn't mean anything. There were a number of ways to get into the school, and he'd been here a year, and learned a number of them. The sewer warrens ran straight into the school, but he didn't want to go that way. He hated the sewers, and he was going to avoid it if possible. The new frame on the window to the student lounge had been installed a few days before, but the glass had been delayed and wouldn't be in until the morning. He slid one of the bars up out of its socket, a feat that wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't been a vampire. Buffy might have been able to do it, but she didn't really have the leverage that would have been required.

The resulting hole was just wide enough to slide into, and he was able to push down the plywood that had been left in place of glass without damaging it too much. The interior had been repainted, replaced, whatever needed done, and the lounge looked as though nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened there, except maybe one of the students had gotten too rowdy and thrown a football through the window or something similar.

Angel pushed the plywood back up, and headed into the principal's office to see about this Mr. Stone.

He had a flashlight, and began looking through some of the papers on the desk of Principal Ian Stone. An understated placard bore his name, a name that, as yet, meant nothing to Angel. There were no pictures of himself, a good sign, he wouldn't be the narcissistic prick Snyder had been. He hadn't personally had the pleasure, but he would have gladly killed the man had he run across him in a dark alley at night for the pain and torment that he caused Buffy.

The filing cabinet had a locked drawer at the bottom, and Angel was about to try to pick it when he heard a familiar sound, that of a sword being drawn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, glancing around, finding that one of the new decorations was two real, sharpened swords, crossed on a red velvet and wood oval. He reached up and grabbed the nearer one.

"What are you doing here?" the voice was feminine, but it wasn't Buffy, and she had a sword. She was probably going to be dangerous.

"What are you doing here? Night security isn't typically a feature of high schools," he said, pinpointing her location by her voice, her scent, and the air currents changing around her too-still body. She had played with swords before, he guessed, but she wasn't a vampire. She smelled too alive. Even the recently dead smelled of earth or worse things. They didn't smell of coursing blood, the way she did. She was afraid, but she controlled it well. It was like she wasn't afraid of him, but of something else entirely.

"I saw the light, and I thought I would investigate. What are you doing in Ian's office?" he finally placed her accent. It was well hidden; years in America did that to a person, or even a vampire, but she hadn't been born here. She was from eastern Russia, her hard sounds were harder than the English equivalents, and her soft sounds weren't soft enough.

"I was wondering why he was interested in employing someone who is still in high school. He's got an awful lot of money to be throwing around for a principal."

"Ian has always been very generous with his time and money. He very much enjoys teaching. You might say it is his only passion."

She sounded bitter to Angel, bitter and hurt. "So he's just the principal out of the goodness of his heart?" Angel asked skeptically.

"Oh, he probably has other reasons to be here, which brings us back to the original question. Why are you here? Ian hasn't even been here for a full day."

"He moves fast, then. He's already doing things that make me suspicious of his motives."

"He is a good man, more than I can say for you, sneaking into the school in the middle of the night," she said, and with that, she launched herself at him.

Angel ducked the blow and kicked her in the midriff, and sent her flying, she crashed into a security camera. She recovered quickly and got past his defenses to stab him in the chest with the sword, missing his heart, but it wouldn't have mattered if she had hit it the sword being steel, but the injury still hurt and brought on his vampire face. Angel grabbed the blade and growled.

"That wasn't nice, missy!" he said as he broke the blade.

"That was my favorite blade!"

"Well, that will teach you to poke people with it."

"You are no person, vampire!" she screamed and lunged at him, instinctively Angel brought up the broken half of the sword and it pierced her chest and came out her back, blood gushed out of the wound assaulting his nostrils driving the demon inside him crazy with need to feed. Angel knew that the sword piece had pierced her heart and there was no saving her, besides, that much blood...he had to get out of there, he crashed through the window and left the bloody mess behind.

* * *

_**Killarney, Ireland, 1978**_

Ian was sitting at a table in the back of a tavern. He had known the owners of this particular tavern for generations, and that meant he was usually left alone, unless something happened.

His beer stein had been empty for some time; he set it over within the line of sight of the barmaid, daughter of the owner. "Ya be needin' more o' that ale, then?"

"Please," he said, and she took the stein away to refill it.

"What's it that ya be readin' there?"

"It's a book of prophecy."

"Ah, ya believin' what's in there, then?"

"A bit," he said with a smile.

She smiled back, "Jes let me know if ya be needin' anythin' else, Mister O'Braonáin."

"I will, thank you," he told her. He didn't often use what he would probably term his 'real' name. Braonán, his father, had been a good man, and he honored him when he could, and that usually meant taking the honorific last name that had been in vogue when they had been giving such things out. He had had little use for it until he was about 500 years old. Ríoghbhardán was his given name, but he liked the name Ian. Considering he had reinvented himself every twenty to fifty years, he'd taken many names. Some he liked, some he didn't, some grew on him, some wore on him. Perhaps he would be Sean next. It was the Irish derivation of John, rather than the Scottish. It was a reasonably good name. Perhaps not. He was undecided as of yet, and the 'Ian Stone' persona still had some life in it. "You're a bloody hard chap to track down," said a familiar voice as he was reading the book and musing about his life. He was intending on writing down what he was reading, but he hadn't gotten around to it.

"I was not intending to be tracked down, Ripper."

"What's that you have there?"

He sighed. "Something the Council has forgotten about, much to my dismay. Not that they would have been able to read it up to now anyway."

"You skank it off them?"

"I liberated it from a shelf that hadn't been dusted in at least twenty years, let alone anything picked up off it."

"Why'd you leave?"

"I wanted to come home."  
"You were yelling at that stiff shirt Travers," Ripper pointed out.

"I yell at a number of people."

"Not like that you don't. You taught for a year and I hadn't seen you yell at anyone, certainly not like that."

"I was rather emotional, I suppose. The conversation was about Nikki Woods and that new Slayer. Don't even know her name. No one ever tells me what's happening on the front lines."

"Samantha Ellis," Ripper said. "She isn't a bad Slayer, but after Nikki, no one talks about what she can do, all they talk about is how she's not Nikki."

"That is something that every Watcher must understand. Every Slayer is different, and every Slayer is unique, and deserves to be treated on her own merits. While comparing them to each other may be useful in the abstract, it is destructive to do so to or in front of them."

"You know that it's standard to rate the Slayers against what their predecessors have done."

"And I find it destructive and abusive."

Ripper looked thoughtful, an odd expression, considering his outward persona. "I can understand that," he said finally. "What's the big deal about this book?"

"It is written in English."

"How old is it?"

"It was written by the man who founded what became the Watcher Council."

"Blimey."

"Yes, you could say that."

"What's it say?"

"That's the problem. I have been able to unlock the seal on the first page, and that is all."

"What's the first page say?"

"'As I write this I know that you will understand. I know that I am writing in a language that will not be understood for many generations to come, but you will come to find that I am what you call a perfect seer. And so my frustration of you must begin. The events that I see, I hope to alter somewhat by writing this to you. My hope is that this finds you. The future is understandably murky on the validity of this, and so, if it is the time of She Who Died, a Slayer of great power and destiny, then you will be able to read this book. Once that time has passed, you will find all of the spells to have worn off. The events have paths, and so as some paths close, others will open. I have attempted to anticipate this. If this is the only page you can read, the time must be close, the players are beginning to align. The next page will not unlock until She is called.'"

* * *

Ian walked into the school, at a time appropriate to his position. "What's going on?" he asked his secretary indicating the hoard of police that were swarming the front office.

"When we opened up this morning, your door was open. There was so much blood in the room…" she looked shaken, and he put his arm around her.

"Was there anything else?"

"No, just the blood. It's rather strange. With that much blood, you would think there would be a body."

He glanced into the room, assessing the situation. His papers had been ruffled through on his desk, and he looked up into the corner where a camera had been installed only the day before, and it was smashed beyond recovery. He frowned, knowing that he would have to get another one. Hopefully he would get something off the tapes, which were run to a different room, a storage closet. There was a lot of blood, some spattered, some smeared, but most of it was in a pool on the floor in front of his desk. It did look like someone should have died there. "You would think," he agreed with her, and went to check the tapes.

The VCR that was set up to monitor his office was fine, and he popped the tape out, taking it with him to the A/V room, wanting to get this over with before any students got into the school.

He found the moment that the tape stopped receiving signal, and he backed up a few minutes to get an idea of what had happened just before that, but there was nothing. It had been too dark, and whoever had entered and swept the room first had done so with just a flashlight, which didn't illuminate his face. Then another shadowy figure appeared with a sword drawn. The picture was so dark that he couldn't tell if the second figure was male or female. They seemed to be talking, but the camera didn't have a microphone. Then the fight started with the second figure lunging at the first one, then the recording stopped, he didn't really see what destroyed the camera. "Great," he muttered to himself, and went back to the office.

"Do you happen to have the tape for that camera?" one of the officers asked him.

"I do, lad, here," he handed the officer the tape. "It doesn't show much, though. He took the camera out."

"He?"

"Well, it could have been a she, but I find that those lurking about and doing nefarious deeds in the middle of the night tend to be 'he's."

One of the detectives spoke then, "Well, I think we've got all the information that we can get from the scene. I imagine you want to get a cleaning crew in here and get started, don't you, Mr. Stone?"

"I do. I'll just take some paperwork to one of the empty classrooms while they clean up in here," he said.

The policeman nodded and left, and he went into his office, closing the door and stepping around the puddle of blood, and going behind the desk. He pried up one of the tiles under the desk, and reached into the hole that the absence of the tile revealed. His hand closed around something and he pulled it out. He leafed through the volume, the pages all gold leaf, and while they turned somewhat more clumsily than paper, he was very familiar with the book. A sigh of relief shuddered out of him. "At least those Council cronies who broke in here didn't find what they were after," he said to himself as he replaced the codex and the tile, smoothing the tile carefully ensuring that it matched up with those around it. "But I wonder who interrupted them?"

_Grrrr…Argh._


	2. Halloween Redux

AN: Sorry for the length of time it took me to get this up. Working on three projects that are this complex takes a bit of time. For fans of Assimilation, that is coming next now that this is done, then I will do Tribulation and then back to this.

**It should be noted that the events in this story do not fully sync with the Episode. I don't do script rips and shoehorn the changes I want to make. That is lazy writing, if one can even CALL it writing. The fact this is being published on Halloween is pure serendipity and was not planned. :)**** Enjoy!**

_He was born over 1500 years ago on the Emerald Isle. Over the centuries, he has fought many battles, but he is at heart, a teacher, a scholar, a lover, a father. For two centuries, he has dedicated himself to learning to battle demons, vampires and the forces of darkness. He came to the New World because it is a time of prophecy. His time is now._

Xander walked around the corner through the mill of students and found the Principal stapling fliers to one of the many bulletin boards. It had gotten around the school that he was dedicated to his job, and everyone that he'd talked now had met with him, at least briefly. No one really knew what to make of him, but he at least had the respect of the majority of the student body.

"Hey, Mr. Stone, whatcha doing?"

"I am putting up fliers about the Trick-or-Treat safety volunteer program, laddie," the principal told him. It seemed like everyone was either a 'laddie' or a 'lass,' or occasionally a 'lad' or 'lassie.' Principal Stone considered him for a moment. "Would you be up to helping me put these fliers up before class?"

"I, uh, sure, Mr. Stone," he said, grabbing the stapler.

"You'll be wanting to volunteer as well, won't you, laddie?"

"I think we have plans for popcorn and cheesy movies at the Buffster's house."

"Aye, and the tikes need to be back by 6:30. Plenty of time for young adults to have fun after, especially with the incentives you'll be getting."

Xander perked up at that. "Incentives?"

"Certainly, laddie. I'm giving everyone who takes a group out the weight in candy that their weans bring back, or cash on the pound."

Xander scanned the flier quickly. It said just what Mr. Stone had told him. It also said that volunteers had to wear costumes. "So, sign up, show up in a costume, take some kids out for a couple of hours, get candy?" Xander asked, and the principal nodded. "Aren't you worried about the whole school being sugared up the day after?"

"No, you are all responsible young adults, and I trust that you can show some restraint at this point in your lives."

Xander stopped, stunned, for an entire minute. "That's evil, Mr. Stone."

Mr. Stone took the rest of the fliers from Xander with a grin. "You should be getting to class, shouldn't you, Mr. Harris?"

* * *

Willow was walking with Buffy. It was just after dark, and no badness was to be expected until after Halloween. "So, I mean, he's like excited, right?"

"I don't know, Will. He's not really one for showing his feelings all out there, you know."

They were walking past the pumpkin patch when a vampire stepped out of the bushes. "I'm going to take you down, Slayer."

"Well," Buffy said with a tight grin as she passed her purse to Willow and grabbed a stake out of it, "At least you have a goal in life. Or, un-life. Better than most of them around here." She kicked him in his midsection as he came at her, and he backed off but didn't fall, staggering toward the pumpkins.

"That all you got, Slayer? You don't really pack that much of a punch. I have to say there are humans who have impressed me more," he said, dropping into a crouch and taking a swing at her legs with his.

She jumped over his leg easily. "Will you be impressed when you're dust?"

He moved in, the talking part of the fight over, to all appearances. He body-slammed Buffy to the ground, and went to do more. Willow had a stake out in case he had any ideas of coming after her. Buffy rolled him, and went to stake him and he kicked her back onto a jack-o-lantern.

Buffy got up, grabbed a little pumpkin and chucked it at him. He was a little startled by this, but recovered. She threw another one, and Willow giggled as it hit him between the eyes. Buffy threw her stake at him, but he sidestepped, catching the stake. Buffy looked slightly concerned, and the vamp looked determined.

"Buffy we're going to be late!" Willow called out.

"Right, Wills, need to finish this guy off."

Buffy kicked the vampire in the face, and went for a second kick only to have the vampire grab her foot and twist her down onto the ground. The vampire leaned over the fallen Slayer only to get kicked in the chest and knocked back into Willows stake which pierced the heart, dusting the vampire.

* * *

He was here. This was good. This time he would realize just how much he needed her. There was no one else, she had made sure of it. He of course didn't know the gift of death she had given his last mortal lover, he wasn't ready to understand the devotion it took to kill her the way she did, as opposed to the way she wanted to. Immortals weren't meant to love mortals. It was just wrong; one did not have sex with one's pet. She shuddered at the thought and her thoughts drifted to the last time she'd had the pleasure of a man.

"I apologize for the wait, Ma'am," a voice broke her out of her thoughts.

"Accepted, I need a room for three nights," she said to the servant, he didn't think he was one, but that didn't matter. She was his better, they both knew it, on at least a subconscious level for him, why else would he apologize to her?

"Of course," he said bringing up a map of the hotel, "What were you looking for? A single, double or king?"

"King sized, suite if you have them, with a kitchen," she said.

"Very good ma'am." The man was efficient, and polite. That went far with her, it was her due, but it cost nothing to appreciate the efforts of one's lessers—soon to be subjects—once it was just her and him. She didn't care for the prize, but the power of all the Immortals in the two of them should give them enough to rule this world openly, and if not the simple weight of years gave them the money to conquer it openly, though that would be messy.

"Here is your key and your coupon book, there are some really good deals in there. Do you need a bus schedule or the numbers of the local cab companies? " he asked.

"No, that won't be necessary." She said and turned and headed to her room. She got her cell phone out, she went through the phone quickly and put it to her ear.

"Johns, I am now resettled. I am at the Applewood Inn on Central, room number 112. I will give you a copy of the key when you prepare my supper, " she paused for a few minutes while the person on the other line spoke , then continued, "Excellent. Bring them I want to look over them, if they are truly acceptable, I 'll have another job for you." There was another pause, then she spoke again, "Good, I will see you in a couple of hours, I think I want red meat tonight, though. Seeing him again …well, never mind."

She disconnected the phone without a goodbye and went into her room. She sighed, there was something she needed to do and soon or it was going to drive her to distraction. She got into her bags and pulled the tool out, it wasn't as good as the real thing would be, but it would grant her some time of peace, she went to the bed with small smile coming to her lips and turned off the lights.

* * *

Willow walked into the Bronze right behind Buffy. There wasn't anywhere that they stop before they got there , so there were still bits of straw and pumpkin goop in her hair . Angel was standing at a table near the door, and he'd caught sight of Buffy as soon as she'd walked in, so an emergency trip to the bathroom was out of the question. Willow proceeded to do what she could before Angel could get up close and personal, but Slaying really didn't go well with hair and wardrobe. Worse yet, Cordelia had been drooling over him. "Oh, hi," Buffy said, almost wringing her hands, "I'm…"

"Late," he finished for her.

"Rough day at the office," she told him.

He picked the last strand of straw from Buffy's hair, and handed it to her. "So I see."

"Hey," she said, getting a little defensive, "It's a look," she hesitated. "A seasonal look," she told him fiercely.

Cordelia walked up to them then. "Buffy," she smiled evilly, "Love your hair. It just screams street urchin," she said then walked away, but the damage was done.

"You know what? I need to go," she paused. "Put a bag over my head."

"She's just jealous because Angel is more interested in you than her," Willow said, grabbing her arm before she could even turn around.

"Don't listen to her," Angel assured her, "You look fine." With the pressure of both of them, Buffy caved. "Let's get out of here and find somewhere else. I don't feel like a crowd tonight," Angel implored.

The prospect of alone time seemed to appeal to her. "Ok," she agreed finally.

Willow hugged her. "Have a good time."

Angel slid his hand down her arm, and laced his fingers in hers wordlessly, but the gesture was met with an actual smile. "Where do you want to go?"

"I'm kind of hungry," she admitted.

"I hear slaying does that," he told her, as they exited the club, leaving Willow feeling a little bereft but she hadn't really thought about what she would do after Angel and Buffy got all date-y. She sat down at a nearby empty table, and moments later she was joined by a miffed Cordelia, who sat a cappuccino down in front of her, and another in front of herself. "Why did he leave with her? I'm obviously more attractive, and can dress way better than her."

"Cordelia, they are in love. I don't think either of them has thought about anyone else for like a year now."

"Isn't he a little old for her?"

Willow shrugged. "Yeah, but I think it's more important that he knows she is the Slayer and can fight along side her."

A carrot-topped boy walked past their table and that caught Cordelia 's attention. "Oz," she said as she caught his arm.

"What?" he asked. "I need to get to the stage. It's bad enough that Devon isn't here, I don't need to be late. "

"I just wanted to know where Devon was."

"Home sick. He got food poisoning from that place up in Santa Barbara we stopped at on the way home last night."

"Oh."

"Cordelia, are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"What friend ? Where?"

"Right next to you," he said with a smile, turning to Willow. He took her hand and gently kissed it. "Hi, I'm Oz. I'm with the band."

"I , uh, w-w-w-well, I," Willow blushed hard and couldn't continue.

"Her name is Willow," Cordelia said with a roll of her eyes. "Devon is really sick?" she asked a little too earnestly.

"Yeah , he is…Willow. That's a pretty name," Oz said.

"Oz is nice , too…I mean, thank you…uhhh…"

"You're cute."

"Hey OZ! Come on! We need to start our set!" a voice called from the stage.

"I gotta go, it was nice to meet you, Willow. Maybe I could buy you a drink after our set?"

"Uhhh…yeah…sure…that would be great," Willow said, her voice getting smaller with each word.

"Great, I'll see you in a couple of hours," he said, and headed toward the stage.

"We ll, if that isn't just rude. Totally ignoring me and my pain."

"I'm sure that he didn't mean to, Cordelia."

"Maybe I should go see Devon at home," Cordelia said to Willow with a frown. "I mean, if he 's sick, I should be there with him."

"He's got food poisoning, that means he's probably puking his guts up."

"Or maybe not."

* * *

Oz and the rest of the band worked really hard to make up for the fact that Devon was gone, but it just wasn't the same. He was their lead singer and his absence meant that the rest of them were trying to do vocals they hadn't practiced, or hadn't quite gotten down. Finally, they decided just to jam with the music, leaving the vocals out, and that finally got people out on the floor.

Oz watched Cordelia and Willow when he could, but being on stage, he had to pay attention to cues from the rest of the band, and to his guitar. It was ten o'clock when they broke for the night . "Thank you, everyone, and good night," Oz said into the mike. He glanced over at the table where Cordie and Willow were sitting, and it looked like Willow was leaving. "Hey, Sam, will you put my guitar away?" he asked, pulling the strap off his shoulder and holding the instrument out.

"Sure, Oz," Sam said, grabbing it and Oz hopped down from the stage.

"Hey," he said to Willow, intercepting her just before she got to the door.

"Hey," she said back to him, "I gotta go, my Mom will be expecting me."

Cordelia came up behind Willow then, " Let me spare you the humiliation, Willow. Run on home and play with your books."

Oz looked at Willow, and he knew that Cordie was doing everything she could to hurt her, and he hated her for it, for just a moment, "It's ok, " he said, "If your Mom is expecting you home you should go."

"Well, she's out of town, but I told her I'd be home by eleven. I can stay for a little while though."

"Ok, great," Oz said, beaming at her, and he guided her over to one of the smaller tables, one with only two chairs.

* * *

Xander had a one of the fliers Principle Stone had been hanging up that morning. Excitement radiated from him as he extolled the virtues of their new principal. "So, I thought we could go shopping for costumes tonight. There's a new place over on Central we could check out."

"Costume shopping?" Giles asked as he walked out of his office.

"Yeah, you know, dressing up, taking little kids out for trick-or-treating," Buffy said. "I really don't want to, but I feel bad that I don't want to."

Giles chuckled. "It's called civic duty. Sometimes you do things because it's the right thing to do. Who's going patrolling tonight?"

"I'll take a swing through, Angel said he would do some too, later on. There's not anything in particular that we need to be watching for is there?"

"No, nothing's come up. I hope you are going to be responsible about this."

Xander sighed. "Mr. Stone already gave me the responsible-young-adults speech."

"And what about you, Buffy?"

"I'll go, but I'm kinda bummed out that my one night a year off is going to be taken up by civic responsibility. "

* * *

Xander was hopping with excitement over lunch, barely paying attention to Buffy and Willow discussing costumes. He got up, heading over to the drink machine, putting in the appropriate amount of change and hitting the button, but nothing came out. He looked up and noticed that Larry, one of the guys from the football team, and therefore one of his archenemies had come up to talk to him. "Harris."

"Larry. Looking very cro mag, as usual. What can I do for you?"

Larry very obviously leered at Buffy and Willow then turned his attention back to Xander. "You and Buffy, you're just friends, right?"

"I like to think of it less as a friendship and more as a solid foundation for future bliss."

Larry's eyes grew steely cold, and he snapped, "So, she's not your girlfriend."

"Alas, no. "

"You think she'd go out with me?"

"Well, Lar, that's a hard question…no, not a chance," he said, remembering the sickening way she'd been talking about her date with Angel the night before.

"Why not? I heard some of the guys say she's fast."

Xander nearly lost his temper right there, but he held his cool for the moment, " I hope you mean 'like the wind.'"

Larry ogled the girls again. "You know what I mean."

Xander grabbed Larry by the shirt, losing all reign on his temper at that point, "That's my friend you're talking about."

Larry puffed his chest out, unmoved by Xander's physical displays, and said, "Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to do what any man would do. Something…damn manly."

He pushed at Larry, who didn't budge, and Larry cocked his fist back, and Xander prepared himself for the impact , but someone grabbed his fist, pulling it back. Xander let go as Larry was spun around, slamming into the soda machine, which dispensed something due to the impact. By Buffy. "Get gone," she said, and Larry scurried off.

Buffy, oblivious to Xander's completely stunned state, picked up the soda, "Ooh , diet," she said, popping the top and heading back to where Willow was sitting.

"Do you know what you just did?" he asked her.

"Saved a dollar?"

"Larry was about to pummel me."

"Oh, that. Forget about it."

"I will, maybe fifteen, twenty years from now. When my rep for being a sissy-man finally fades."

She looked torn, but Xander was too upset to hear whatever apology she had for him, "Xander," she started but he cut her off.

"A black eye heals, Buffy. But cowardice has a nearly unlimited shelf life," he said, and disgusted with the conversation he told her, "But thanks. Thanks for your help." He stalked off after that and left the lunch room.

* * *

Willow looked up as Buffy came back from saving Xander. "I think I just violated the guy code, big time."

"Poor Xander. Boys are so fragile," Willow commented, and it dimmed her glow just a little.

"Speaking of, you was your date last night?"

"Good. We got take out and sat in a graveyard. Very Slayerish."

"Did you kiss him?"

"Willow, you know that a girl shouldn't kiss and tell," Buffy gave her a hard look. "Speaking of which, what's with the glow-y Willow? Did Xander finally admit to undying love or something?"

"Oh, ah, no."

"Well then what? I know you, and you're just dying to spill, so, come on, spill."

"After you left the Bronze, Cordelia was there, and ah, um."

"I know who Cordelia is, Willow."

"And she's dating Devon, but he wasn't there."

"Right, which is why she was drooling all over my honey because I was late. Leave no stone unturned, that's Cordelia."

"So there was this guy, and he's in the band, you know, the one that plays, um, music."

"Dingoes Ate my Baby?"

"Yeah, that one," Willow said, lighting up. "And Cordelia kind of stopped him and he kind of noticed me."

"You like him, don't you?"

"I, ah, well, um, yeah," Willow admitted finally, deflating.

"Did you get a name?"

"Oz," Willow said, taking a deep breath. "And he's cute and I watched him play guitar for like two hours and then I didn't want to talk to him because maybe he was just being nice when Cordelia was there and so I started to leave but then he stopped me and Cordelia said mean things, but all I could do was look at him and he's so cute and he bought me a drink and he talked to me, and I think he really likes me and," she caught sight of an unruly mop of red hair and she stopped.

"Hey, Willow," Oz said, coming around the corner. She knew she was glowing again and she couldn't help it.

"Hi," she said.

"I'm Buffy," Buffy told him, holding her hand out. He shook it. "I need to stop by the library before class. Talk to you after?"

Willow nodded happily and turned her full attention to Oz.

* * *

"So…have you decided what you'll dress up as Buffy?" Willow asked.

"No…not yet. Still thinking a quiet evening home would be nice," Buffy said.

"Oh no, no, Bufster…we have a deal. I get your and your troop's candy in exchange for premature forgiveness, no backing out," Xander said.

"Ok, Xander, if this really will make you feel better," Buffy said.

"It's chocolaty goodness, Buffy. Of course it will make me feel better," Xander said.

Willow giggled at the exchange then she eeped and called out, "Buffy!"

Buffy and Xander headed over to the excited red head and a vaguely familiar pink costume.

"Wow, Wills, is that what I think it is?"

"It most certainly is, my dear," Ethan said coming over to them.

"Is it really from the show?" Willow asked.

"Yes, worn by Barbara Eden herself, I think this one was the one she used in the first two seasons, or one of them at any rate," Ethan said.

"It looks like a perfect fit, Buffy. Shame we can't get Angel in an Air Force uniform," Willow said.

"Why would we want to get Angel in an Air Force uniform except to get him arrested?" Xander quipped, only to have his stomach become much to familiar with Buffy's elbow.

"Sorry …" he wheezed.

"Angel playing Major Tony Nelson? Be still my beating heart," Buffy gushed as Xander gagged, only halfway from his unfortunate encounter with her elbow.

"Well, this piece will certainly make your friend wish he could be Major Nelson, dear," Ethan said.

"Yeah…but an actual costume? I could never…" Buffy was interrupted by Willow placing a hand over her mouth.

"She'll take it, she just got a raise in her allowance, one that she forgot about," Willow said.

"Willow!" Buffy said taking her friend's hand from her mouth.

"You'll thank me for this, Buffy! Just think of Cordelia 's reaction to Angel's reaction to you in it," Willow said.

"Is anyone concerned with my reaction to Angel's reaction to Buffy in that?" Xander interjected.

"No," both girls said at the same time.

"Just thought I'd ask," Xander said, moving off to either void his stomach or do some shopping on his own.

"So…you'll take it?" Ethan asked.

"Yes, she will," Willow spoke up before Buffy could say anything.

"Excellent. Let's get it packaged up."

* * *

Spike watched the video of the Slayer fighting the goon he sent after her. Damnation she was a tough bird. She was going to be the toughest Slayer kill of his entire life…and it would be sweeter for it. But that didn't mean he wasn't currently VERY PISSED OFF. He screamed in rage as he watched the slayer off the underling, not because she had dusted the underling, but because of HOW it had happened. What was this?

"Spikey is upset," Dru half sang.

"Damn right I'm upset. This isn't fair…who ever heard of a Slayer with FRIENDS? They are supposed to be the ultimate Lone Ranger type. Fucking Batgirls with Batman's attitudes. This one…she's different. Dangerously different."

"How so, Boss?" the vampire that had been playing the tape asked.

"Haven't you been paying attention you moron? She's got FRIENDS, and a family that support her and give her something that much more to fight for. Every other Slayer I've killed has been alone except for their usually next-to-useless Watchers," Spike let out another growl of frustration at his mention of the Watchers.

"I don't understand…" the underling started before exploding into dust.

"Let that be a lesson to the rest of you …I pay for brains as much as muscle!" Spike yelled, while Dru started humming, while she played with her cards.

"Ummm…boss…this might not be the best idea…but hmmmm…why not kill her friends? If they are such a problem?" Another lackey said.

"Kill her friends….hmmmm….if I could get them alone…that might actually work! Glad I thought of it …I am a GENIUS!" Spike said.

"Uhhh…yes sir…"

"Oh…come off you stupid sod…I was kidding. It really is a good idea. Yes ….Dru…what IS that that you are humming? It sounds familiar."

"Spaceman….in a bottle …show her navel she does not…" Dru continued to the tune she was humming.

"What are you going on about Dru…love?"

"She's insane , Spike," the lackey with the idea said.

"True enough…but my Dru is insane in a very special way …tell Spike Dru…what does it mean darling?"

"In pink she will be…color TV…she will not know the night …but she will know the light." Dru continued…some how keeping the words in that same maddeningly familiar song.

"What is that song?" Spike asked himself.

"It almost sounds like the theme from ' I Dream of Jeannie '," another minion asked.

"That's it! What does it mean Dru…tell your Spike…what does it mean?" Spike knelt before Drusilla .

"The Slayer will be in living color… at eight…seven central…on all of your NBC stations," Dru started laughing, then after a moment continued, "Someone is playing a really fun prank on Halloween…this year will be FUN. Kill her Spike…while she's dress ed in pink? Kill her for your Drusillia? "

"Are you saying what I think you are saying, pet?" Spike asked a grin growing on his face.

"She can be canceled on Halloween," Dru said, out of her ravings and clearly making a joke.

"I love you, Dru!" Spike said.

"Dance with me, Spikey?"

"Of course…this is a moment to celebrate! However…instead of killing her…I want to make her suffer a bit …maybe turning one of her friends?"

"Oh…I like that…Spike, yes…kill the Slayer's friends…make me a friend ? It's been a long time since I've been able to talk girl things…" Dru said.

"Yes…she'll do nicely…" Spike said, rewinding and pausing the playback and pointing at the redhead that interfered at such an inopportune moment.

"Yes …Spike! Red will be FUN! Can she be our little girl?"

"You want to do it?"

Dru nodded.

"Very well, pet…she shall be yours."

* * *

Ethan was pleased by the number of customers coming into the shop...of course the spell he cast to make it a little more enticing didn't hurt. Even if his plans for Halloween fizzled, and he didn't expect them too, he was making money hand over fist. Say what you would about America and Americans, any sod with two brain cells to rub together could make a killing in this country. Just this morning he sold the Jeanie costume...now where she came across the twenty thousand dollars to pay for it he didn't know, but her card went through and it was a debit card. Wonderful innovations...much more peace of mind with those than credit for the merchants of the world. Yes indeed, it was a good day.

Then he saw him enter the store...damnit...why did HE have to be here. Ethan ducked below the counter and quickly put on a Ronald Reagan mask. He just COULDN'T be recognized . The bell rang as the door opened to admit his least welcome customer, Ian Stone. Immortal, and as far as Ethan knew, still employed by the Watcher's council. He would prove to be a problem if he found out what was going to happen before it happened. However, every cloud did have its silver lining, if Ian was in here, that meant that he was here to buy a costume, which meant he'd be affected by the spell. Ethan smiled underneath the mask.

He approached Stone and doing his best Reagan voice said, "Can help you find something?"

"Yes, my dear..." Stone turned and saw the mask, and finished with a smirk, " I mean, Mr. President. I'm looking for something from Star Trek."

"Excellent choice , sir! Excellent indeed! I only have costumes from the next Generation, and nothing worn by any of the stars. But many to choose from," Ethan said, dropping the Reagan voice, but keeping his British accent hidden.

"Excellent...I always fancied myself an engineer," Stone said.

"Right this way, sir, right this way." Ethan led him near the back of the store where he kept the Sci-Fi outfits. There was the scarf and overcoat of the third Doctor, a couple of Rebel uniforms from the Star Wars films even an outfit from Battlestar Galactica, warriors uniform, complete with holster, belt and jacket. Then the Star-Trek uniforms. There were original uniforms, movie uniforms and then uniforms from the Next Generation and Stone looked like a kid at Christmas.

"You sir, are amazing. I am glad to have stumbled into your shop," Stone said as he looked over the choices. He lingered over the original uniforms for sometime, then moved on to the movie uniforms, taking down the white radiation suit that Scotty wore in the Wrath of Kahn, and put it back. He went to the Next Generation uniforms and skipped over the blue of science and the red of command.

He took down a couple of the yellow of engineering and security. He held a couple up to himself and then selected one.

"I think this will do, Mr. President," Stone said in that damn annoying Irish accent of his. It almost was enough to make Ethan's ears bleed to hear it.

"Very well, if you'll come to the register I'll get you on your way," Ethan said.

"Excellent," Stone replied.

The two of them headed to the counter, and Ethan rang up the purchase, " That will be $435.95."

"Very well, do you take plastic?" Stone asked.

"This is America, of COURSE I take plastic," Ethan said.

"Very well," Stone said chuckling a little, swiping his card and entering his pin.

"Thank you and remember, win one for the Gipper!" Ethan asked, wondering where THAT had come from.

"Cute, very cute. Have a good day, Mr. President," Stone said and left. Ethan breathed out a sigh of relief and ripped off the mask, his hair was wet from sweat, and it wasn't just from the heat.

"Bloody hell...why did that Mick bastard have to be on the Hellmouth, NOW?"

* * *

"Are you going to see Angel tonight?" Willow asked Buffy from the bathroom .

"Yeah, after you guys leave I think we're going to have some alone time here at the house. Mom's off in some other city looking at the competition."

"Art galleries?"

"Yeah."

"Does he know about your costume?"

"Nope. It's a surprise. Come on out, Will, you can't stay in there all night."

"Okay, but don't laugh," she said, and slowly emerged from the bathroom.

"I won't," Buffy started, then she actually caught sight of Willow. "Wow," she said, impressed that the look was amazing on Wills.

"Do you really mean it, you aren't just saying that?" she asked, looking frightened.

Buffy guided her over to the full-length mirror. "Totally. I wouldn't let you go out looking less than your best tonight, and you totally look like a hot babe." Willow was still examining herself critically in the mirror when the doorbell rang. "That's Xander. You ready?"

"Yeah, okay," Willow agreed, and Buffy grinned.

"Cool! I can't wait to watch the boys go non-verbal when they see you," she said and ran out the door and down the stairs. She opened the door to find Xander in a lame "army dude" costume.

"Private Harris, reporting for-" he swallowed. "Grant me a wish oh, all-powerful Jeanie," he said, his eyes riveted on Buffy.

"I'll think about it," she said playfully. "Wait ' til you see-"

"Hi," Willow's voice came from about halfway down the stairs. Buffy and Xander turned to look at her .

"Willow ," Buffy finished, and a little amazed that her attempts to draw Willow out had worked.

Xander's eyes got huge as he took in Willow's full costume.

Buffy watched in amazement as the intelligence drained out of Xander's eyes as they moved down Willow. She knew his IQ had hit three when his tongue flopped out of his mouth and he tried to talk around it.

"What's wrong Xander?" Willow asked, worried about her best friend .

"I think he's lost the capacity to speak," Buffy told her, bemused.

"Is that it?" she asked him, actually a little bit pissed off.

"I, uh, no. I've just never seen you wear anything like that before," Xander said, trying to recover. "It kind of surprised me is all."

"It took this for you to see me as a girl?" she asked, getting up in his face, using her hands to gesture at her body.

"I see you as a girl...just not...uhmmm...not date type girl...best friend ...that's you...but...damn..." he said, his eyes still roving over her newly revealed body.

"Thanks, Xander, thanks a lot ! I think I'm over the crush I've had on you for the last ten years, I never dreamed you were THIS shallow!" she said, then turned to Buffy. "Come on, I think there's still time to get to school if we walk."

"In my own defense...I AM seventeen! Willow ? Buffy?" He followed the girls helplessly calling after them as both ignored them.

* * *

Ian was enjoying himself, the kids in their costumes were cute as buttons...though he wondered at that particular expression...all the buttons he'd ever seen were functional, completed the outfit, but he would hesitate to call them cute. The kids however couldn't help but be adorable and the old familiar pain of his own inability to have children surfaced. He fought it down with practiced ease and started counting out the children into groups of ten for high schoolers to take.

"Beaming somewhere Mister Stone?" a familiar perky voice said.

"Miss Summers. Pleased to see you here, though given your other duties I had expected you to take tonight off," Ian said, genuinely pleased that the Slayer was here.

"I came down with a bad case of civic duty and the Pepto didn't fix it," Buffy said.

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" he responded.

"Besides, how can you say no to a face like this?" Buffy pointing down at one of her charges that was dress ed as a n ax-murderer victim. Ian suppressed a sigh at what parents would let their children do nowadays, he'd seen too much real violence in his days to take pleasure in its glorification.

"Not easily I suppose," Ian said, suppressing the horror he felt.

"Whoa! Mister Stone, Starfleet! So who outranks who?" Xander said with his 'troops' marching behind him in a formation that would make a drill sergeant red with anger.

"Mr. Harris, I will forever and always outrank you," Ian said with a smirk.

"Yes, sir!" Xander said, then turned to Buffy, "Buff, can you PLEASE talk to Willow for me? I've only seen her back since we left your house."

"Sorry, Xander, I can't get involved," Buffy said, not unsympathetically. Ian watched her deal with whatever it was and forced down a smile...yes...she was good. She'd make a fine leader when it became necessary.

"Please?" Xander begged.

"Give her a few days, Xander. The WORST thing you can do is push right now," Buffy said.

Xander let out a sigh, then a little boy said, "Gee, this guy's pathetic, all of this over a girl!"

"Hey! That's my best friend you're talking about!"

" All right, Mr. Harris, mind on the mission," Ian said.

"Right...right. Ok, troops! Let's head out!" Xander said as he led his "troops" out and started giving them final instructions.

"Well I suppose I better get my group and get going," Buffy said to Ian.

"Have a Happy Halloween, Miss Summers," Ian said and gathered the group he was taking himself.

* * *

"I think Devon is avoiding me, first it's food poisoning, now he's 'out of town' for his grandmother's funeral. I mean, she's his grandmother just how well could he know her?" Cordelia whined, Oz was starting to wish for a shotgun and he was starting to wonder just who he'd use it on.

"Actually I think they were quite close. He was really broken up when he told us. Tears and everything," Oz said, in lieu of what he really wanted to tell the self-centered bitch next to him. He'd decided to surprise Willow by showing up to help her with the trick-or-treaters. He wasn't in costume and had had the unfortunate luck to be cornered by Drama Queen Cordelia.

"Why did you say you were here again?" Cordelia asked.

"To help Willow with her charges tonight, its a surprise."

"I can't escape it...I'm surrounded by losers. I was supposed to go to this really hot party, but with Devon out of town I can't go. My life sucks!"

"Why can't you go to your party?" Oz asked.

"And show up dateless? Are you insane? My reputation would be RUINED!" She played with the tail on her costume.

"Can't have that, now. Can we?" Oz said subtly scooting further away from her.

"Of course not! If I showed up dateless it would be like...something really bad."

"There's Willow. I'll see you Cordelia," Oz said and left.

"No one cares about my pain...I suffer alone."

* * *

Xander was finding this Halloween to be so not fun. Willow's reaction to HIS reaction to her outfit was...he didn't know what it was. But he knew that it would take as much chocolate as he could get to help this hurt.

He was confused then he was in pain as the mean little kid kicked him in the shin.

"Focus dummy. Forget the girl," the mean little kid said.

"Well excuse me. You know you'll understand someday," Xander said to the twerp.

"Ewww...girls have cooties," the mean kid said and every boy in the little "platoon" nodded.

"They grow out of them...trust me," Xander said, and got the kids on to the next house. While they were getting their loot, he looked across the street and saw Willow, and his heart skipped a beat. What was wrong with him...this was Willow. Study buddy, buddy buddy, Willow! And now the only thing that was on his mind was anatomy...specifically hers. Then it happened, he saw another guy come up with what looked to be half of her kids, they seemed to be planning where to go next when the other guy kissed Willow on the cheek. Xander stared in horror. Then he heard a familiar voice.

"You are so pathetic. Come on...there's more candy to get." the mean little kid said.

"Yeah...right...and I am pathetic...pathetic for not seeing it sooner. Damn me to hell...oh, yeah. I'm already there," Xander said, mostly to himself.

"What are you talking about?" the mean little kid said.

"Nothing. Come on troops!" Xander called, looking back at Willow and her...erp... boyfriend.

* * *

Oz came back from the house with half the kids, all of who seemed pleased with the loot they've collected thus far. He saw Willow smile at him.

"Thank you for helping me Oz," she said.

"Thank you for letting me join you. I'm having fun," he replied.

"So where to next?" Willow asked.

"Let's see…it's getting close to 6:30 so we need to be heading back toward the school, so lets take Bradford and hit those houses to maximize the sugar high of these guys," Oz said.

"Ok," she agreed, and they headed down the street they had just hit to get to Bradford. Oz ran the back of two of his fingers down the back of her hand, knowing how skittish she was around him, and she jumped and eeped.

"Sorry," he said, smiling. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh," she said. "It's ok, I mean it's not bad or anything."

He nodded and settled in to walking beside her, and he slipped his hand into hers. She didn't jump this time, and the smile she gave him was brilliant. He smiled back as they turned down Bradford. As they took their first couple of steps down Bradford he felt a slight charge to the air, then all of the kids changed into whatever they were wearing and immediately went nuts.

"What just happened?" Oz asked, bewildered.

"Oh, no…come on, we have to find Buffy!" she said, grabbing his arm in her excitement, and pulling him in the direction she last saw the Slayer.

"Why do we have to find Buffy?" he headed off after her as she broke into a run.

"She's the Slayer, she'll know what to do!" Willow sounded very sure of herself about this and Oz found himself glad that she wasn't just the shy thing she'd shown so far.

"Ok, you can answer questions while we look, do you know where she was planning to take her group?" Oz asked.

"I think she headed down Wilkerson Avenue," Willow answered as they ran.

"Ok, now what's a Slayer?" Oz asked between breaths as they jogged towards Wilkerson.

"The full title is Vampire Slayer, but she deals with more than just vampires. Magic, which this feels like, is real, demons are real and vampires are real," She said in one breath, and not for the first time Oz was amazed at Willow's ability to keep speaking when most mortals would be heaving for air.

"What about werewolves?"

"Never met one, and Buffy or Giles hasn't mentioned them."

"Frankenstein monsters?"

"Had that last month, met the same end as Shelly's monster," Willow said.

"He burned himself up?" Oz asked.

"Well, he was trapped in the old science lab when it burned down," Willow said.

"So he suffered the movie's ending, not the book's," Oz said.

Willow smiled at him as they turned down Wilkerson Avenue, "I'm impressed, most people don't know there was a difference," Willow said.

"Shelly's Frankenstein has been a favorite of mine, though the first time I read it, it gave me nightmares," Oz confessed.

"Really?" Willow asked.

"Yes…self immolation can't be a fun way to go," Oz said.

"You had nightmares of burning yourself?" Willow asked.

"Not specifically, but of being such a threat that I'd have to destroy myself, I guess I sympathized with the monster too much."

They jogged in silence for another few minutes then they finally saw Buffy.

"There she is," Willow said, and they picked up speed to reach her, fortunately, the Slayer was walking.

"Buffy!" Willow called, and the Slayer didn't turn, and seemed lost. "Buffy!" Willow called again, this time catching her friend on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, were you speaking to me?" Buffy said.

"Yes, Buffy! There something very bad going on, all of my trick-or-treaters turned into their costumes!"

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that, but maybe you could help me, I seem to be lost. Where is the Columbia Studio complex? I'm supposed to be on set at dawn," Buffy said.

"I think we have a problem," Oz said.

* * *

This had to be the WORST Halloween of Cordelia's life, first Devon was out of town, then she missed her party, and now all of these short monsters were running around. Which meant she was now looking for Buffy and her loser friends. Just how pathetic could this get?

She was making her way to the school, which seemed to be Central Command or whatever for the spook squad. She was headed down Harrison when Xander backed into her back.

"Freeze! Who are you? Oh...civilian. Don't worry Ma'am, well take care of...whatever these things are," Xander said, sounding surprisingly...in charge, a part of her found it...attractive. Then, the rest of her wanted to vomit for thinking anything of the like about Xander Harris.

"What are you talking about, Xander? You know all about the weird things that go on in Sunnydale!"

"Who is this Xander and why do you think I'm him?"

"Xander is YOU dummy!" she said with a prod to his chest.

"Hey! Its not smart to insult someone with an assault rifle!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes, when she heard a familiar voice, and swore under her breath, "Principal Stone!"

"Excuse me? Principal? No, I'm Commander Geoffrey Corbin, Cheif Engineer of the _Intrepid_. Could you tell me what planet I'm on? It LOOKS like Earth, or rather Old Earth, but I can't see the constellations for the light," Ian said.

"Oh, for crying out loud, you are Xander Harris, and you are Principal Stone, clear?" Cordelia said poking them in the chest.

"My dear, there is little need to get worked up over this, now please, tell me which planet I'm on?" Ian said.

"EARTH! Duh! Why me...why me? My life STINKS!"

"Xander! Principal Stone! Cordelia!" she heard another familiar voice, great...Sears girl herself...Cordelia swallowed as she saw what Willow was dressed in, they were followed by Buffy who was looking a little frightened.

"This has to be a practical joke by the make-up department," Buffy said.

"Willow, you seem to know who you are. What is going on?" Cordelia pleaded.

"They've changed into their costumes. We need to get to Buffy's house," Willow said.

"Why?" Cordelia's eyes brightened.

"Supplies," Willow said, and led the way. They made good time getting to Buffy's house.

"Ok, Oz, stay here and help Cordelia keep an eye on them," Willow said as she headed upstairs.

"Are you sure this is Earth? Earth has no creatures like we've seen," Ian said.

"Yes, it is Earth, it's the twentieth century, and you've been exposed to LSD," Oz told Principal Stone.

"Oh...how long until it wears off?" Stone asked.

"Hard to say," Oz said.

Cordelia came over to him and whispered in his ear, "He really bought that?"

"Why not? It makes more sense than the truth, at least to the uninitiated."

"They are still out there," Xander said.

"I'm not surprised," Willow said as she came down with a handful of stakes, several vials of holy water and enough crosses for everyone.

"Excuse me, but...I know this is a barbaric time, but where might one relieve one's self?" Ian said.

"Huh?" Willow said.

"To put it bluntly, I must empty my bladder, while not critical yet, I'd rather take care of it before we start running for our lives again," Stone said.

"Oh!" Willow said, and gave him directions to the downstairs restroom, to which he went.

Then they heard the back door open and shut, they headed to the kitchen crosses ready only to see Angel.

"Good, glad to see you guys are all right, it's pure chaos out there," Angel said.

"You're here!" Cordelia said and threw herself at Angel, "Hold me."

Willow rolled her eyes and said, "No time, here you'll be better with these than any of us," she said handing Angel the stakes.

"Ok, what does everyone know?" Angel asked as they heard a muffled flush.

"Most everyone has turned into their costumes, except for me and Cordelia," Willow said, over another muffled flush.

"Why aren't you two affected?"

"They seem to be ignoring us, Xander is keeping watch, hey Angel," Oz said.

"Oz," Angel responded.

"You know each other?" Willow said.

"Yeah, Angel lives near the Bronze, we talk sometimes," Oz said.

"Back to business," Angel said interjecting, over a third muffled flush, "You, Cordelia, Oz and I haven't been affected, the question is why."

"Well you and Oz aren't even dressed up, that would be why for you, but Cordelia and I are," Willow said, over a fourth muffled flush.

"I'd better go check on Starfleet before he runs the water bill through the roof," Oz said.

"Starfleet?" Angel asked, "Or do I really want to know?"

"Principal Stone dressed up as a Starfleet officer and now thinks he is one," Willow said.

"As in Star Trek?" Angel asked.

"Yes," Willow said, "Cordelia, where'd you get your costume?"

"Partyworld, and I HOPE none of those little monstrosities damage it," Cordelia answered.

"And where'd you get your costume?" Angel asked Willow.

"Out of Buffy's closet," she said.

"Really?" Angel said, sounding intrigued, hearing a fifth flush and the bathroom door opening.

"It's really fascinating, to think that its all gravity fed...incredible," Stones voice came, Angel turned around as they came around the corner.

Angel's eye's flashed as soon as he saw Stone, "Get back from him!" Angel shouted, his game face going into place and the teens watched in horror as Angel staked their Principal.

* * *

_**Ireland, 561 A. D.**_

Ríoghbhardán O'Braonáin swung his club at the unprotected head of the enemy, he wasn't sure just what this fight was about, but with the harvest just out of the ground he sure didn't have anything better to do, might as well beat on the southern whoresons some. Of course the thought that he might be one who got beaten didn't really enter into his mind. He was ostensibly a leader of his section, but the battle had devolved rather quickly into a rowdy brawl, still he had to keep up appearances.

"Come on boys! We've got these clap ridden whoresons on the run! Press them!" Ríoghbhardán shouted, the orders didn't have much effect, the lines had meshed into each other to the point that he had to be careful not to clobber one of his own men. A breeze had come up out of the west, cooling his sweating brow, it was good, unfortunately it helped the other side as much. He swung his club wildly aiming for defense as much as attack, he'd lost his shield early in the fighting, a common occurrence. Now he swung his club with near-reckless abandon in a two-handed grip, catching heads on its knobbed head. He didn't know how many he'd killed at this point, maybe none, you didn't have to kill to take some one out of the fight. That didn't mean that getting clubbed in the head with the weighty wood wouldn't kill, or worse knock you out of your senses. Ríoghbhardán suppressed a shudder at that thought…yes there were fates worse than death on the battlefield.

It happened suddenly, as such things do. He felt pain on the back of his skull, stars danced before his eyes as another whack hit him on the side of the head, and he was certain that he heard and felt his skull crack. He groaned and murmured, "Oh Great Saint Patrick, intercede on my behalf that this be a killing blow and not one that leaves me a fool!" As he said it yet another blow landed on the crown of his head causing everything to go black.

The first thing he was aware of was a dull throbbing in his head, he wasn't sure where he was, but something smelled good. Was it pork? They must be preparing a victory feast while he had recovered from his injuries, he still didn't quite feel like moving.

"Oy! Here's another! God there's so many…shame we have to burn them."

"Better that then leaving them for the animals, it's not a Christian burial, but it's more decent than that."

Ríoghbhardán decided that he'd better do something at this point, he tried to move only to find that he couldn't. He tried to open his eyes only for them to stay stubbornly shut, he felt rough hands grab him by the ankles, then another pair grabbed his arms under their pits. He felt himself be carried some distance, then he felt heat and the smell of roast boar filled his nostrils, his stomach tried to rebel once his mind processed what it really was. The two men started swinging his limp form, getting ready to put him on the fire, on the third swing he felt a pop in his back and at once his body started working again, he opened his eyes with a start and started flailing his arms and legs. The two men promptly dropped him and looked at him in horror and terror.

"What's the matter yeh fools! Canna not tell the living from the dead?" Ríoghbhardán yelled at them. The two men backed away from him, fear dancing in their eyes.

"Don't hurt us demon!" one of them cried.

"Demon? I'm no demon. I'm Ríoghbhardán O'Braonáin of Cill Eanaigh!"

The two fools stared and then deciding he wasn't going to devour their souls or whatever demons did ran as fast as their legs could carry them, which was fast enough to impress Rioghbhardan, if only grudgingly.

* * *

Cordelia looked at Angel. "Oh, great, now we are going to have to break in a new Principal."

Willow rolled her eyes, "Cordelia!"

Angel crumpled to his knees, his vampiric features retracted and his human face was utterly distraught.

"God...no...no..." Tears began trickling down his cheeks.

"Ummm...why is no one calling the police?" Buffy's voice came up.

"We can't! Angel would never survive the arraignment much less a trial," Willow said.

"He KILLED that guy in the pajamas!" Buffy screamed.

"Hey! Not so loud, you might attract those things!" Xander said, from the living room.

"Angel, why did you think Mr. Stone was a vampire?" Willow asked gently.

"I swear, first Mr. Flutie was eaten by hyenas, then Mr. Snyder was eaten by a vampire, now Mr. Stone was staked by a vampire!" Cordelia went on over everyone else.

"He looked so much like him...too much like him...it CAN'T be him...but...the face...I never forget a face..." Angel said, more to himself than to Willow.

"We've got trouble, don't we?" Oz said.

"Yes, Angel! Snap out of it!" Willow shouted.

"He...should be dead...should be dust...never forget a face...but it CAN'T be him..."

"Angel!" Willow shouted again, this time slapping him.

The pain of the strike caused Angel's game face to come down, and he growled, then said, "Huh?"

"We need you, if we're going to survive tonight, we NEED you!"

"The police are on their way," Buffy's voice said.

"What! Oh Buffy...you didn't..." Willow moaned.

"I did, and my name is Barbra thank you very much, you all are INSANE!" Buffy said, the she caught a look at Angel's face and screamed.

"Is Angel going to jail?" Cordelia asked.

* * *

_**Galway, Ireland, 1739**_

Toirdhealbhach Ó Gallchobhair, formerly Ríoghbhardán O'Braonáin, who died on the field at Cúl Dreimhne walked up the cobblestone streets of Galway a couple hundred miles from that accursed field. He was getting introspective, it always happened this time of year, his birthday was coming up, and he sighed. It really could be worse, it could be next year's birthday, his twelve hundredth. The centuries weighed heavy on Toirdhealbhach's mind, while at the same time they seemed to rush by ever more quickly. He pulled a piece of paper from his jackets pocket and looked at it and nodded to himself, this was the correct address. He went up and knocked on the door. An attractive mid aged woman answered the door.

"Excuse me, Madam, but is this the house of Patrick Ó Bruadiar?"

"Aye, it is the house of Patrick Ó Bruadiar, who has come call on him?"

"My name is Toirdhealbhach Ó Gallchobhair, I have been contracted to tutor his son Liam," Toirdhealbhach replied, taking off his hat, the fall air was crisp and cool. Not cold, but with just a hint of the coming winter.

"Oh of course Master Ó Gallchobhair, my Patrick has been expecting you. I am Liam's mother, Ciara," the lady said, bidding him enter with a hand.

"A pleasure, Mistress Ó Bruadiar. I thank you for your hospitality," Toirdhealbhach said as he entered the house.

"I fear mine husband is currently away on business and will not be home for several days, however he did anticipate that you might arrive before he returned and left written instructions," she went to a bookcase and produced an envelope.

"Very good, m'lady," he said taking the envelope from her hand and unsealing it. He took the papers out of it and read them carefully, but quickly. Once he was done with them he placed them back with a nod of satisfaction. "All seems to be as we agreed in our correspondence, where is the boy?"

Ciara went to the base of the stairs and called, "Liam! Come here, I have someone for you meet!"

"Coming Mother!" a young voice called down, noticeably breaking on the last syllable.

A boy of about twelve with dark hair and a face that in time would make young ladies swoon came down. At the moment, well, he was gangly. The poor child hadn't quite grown into his extremities as of yet. He had brown eyes, a broad nose, and his chin was already strong. However the thing that really stood out to Toirdhealbhach was the boy's smile, it shown bright and happy.

"Liam, this is Master Ó Gallchobhair. He's going to tutor you," the boy's mother said.

"I hope we can have a productive relationship, young Master Ó Bruadiar. When I'm done with you the world will truly be your oyster."

"I don't really care for oyster's, though," Liam said, bringing a smile to Toirdhealbhach's lips.

"Then young sir, it will be whatever you do care for."

* * *

"How does a man live for two hundred years and not be a vampire?" Angel asked, no one in particular.

"I don't know, and I don't care," Xander said from the door, "But the natives are getting restless, and we are going to need some more firepower to keep them out of the house."

"Just so long as you don't shoot them." Willow said, and screamed as he fired a three round burst out the door. "I thought I said not to shoot them. They are just little kids."

"Warning shot," he said. "What's with the hostility, lady? I haven't done anything to you."

"You have you just don't remember it," she said, taking a breath and standing up. "I'm going to go get Giles. Maybe he can do something about the principal, and maybe he knows something about this costume spell." She pointed a finger at Xander. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. If you die, I want to be the one to kill you."

Xander blinked a couple of times. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, saluting her. She opened the door and walked out, closing it behind her, and Xander resumed his watch at the door.

Cordelia walked into the room from the kitchen, stepping over the body of their principal and sitting by Angel. "You said you were a vampire, but you, as much as I hate contemplating it, dating the Slayer, the Vampire Slayer. How does that work?"

"I was cursed, a hundred years ago. I killed someone I shouldn't have, and a tribe of gypsies cursed me with my soul. I remembered every horrific thing I had done and could feel remorse and I did," he told Cordelia, and his eyes were haunted and hollow.

Before she could think of anything to say she heard some muttering.

"Ohh...fuathaím aon uair tarlaíonn é seo," came the mutterings in some strange language. "Maith, nár chócarála siad mé SEO tréimhse."

"What is with the weird German accent?" she asked, trying to find the source of the gibberish.

"It's Gaelic," Angel said absently still staring at the stake, then Cordie spotted the source of the mutterings, and she screamed.

* * *

_**Galway, Ireland, 1741**_

Toirdhealbhach's blade neatly parried fourteen year old Liam's as they sparred in the courtyard. Toirdhealbhach countered and put the boy on the defensive, though the lad gave ground and found his footing again.

"Very good, lad! You're improving! Now lets see if you can do that while reciting Marc Anthony's speech, in Latin," Toirdhealbhach instructed.

"You just can't stand the thought that I might beat you, can you?" Liam said, but then complied, his fighting suffered as his concentration was divided on the tasks. This wasn't the first time that the teacher had instructed his student to recite a piece of learning during their sparring matches. Most other fencing instructors would consider it the height of folly to have their students so distracted, however Toirdhealbhach was fully confident in both his own skills, and more so his pupil's. Liam was truly a gifted child, no, strike that, he wasn't a child anymore, he was a young man, not to the height of his powers yet, but rapidly approaching them. Toirdhealbhach had enjoyed the past two years here. Patrick was now more friend than employer, and his wife Ciara had become a doting sister in Toirdhealdbach's life. Then there was his charge…Liam himself had to be the shining jewel in the crown of happiness he wore. The lad was funny, smart, kind…truly the first time in a long time that the ancient one had feelings for another human being approaching those he had felt for his true younger brother, now dead over a millennium.

As Liam neared the end of the speech, not missing a single word and holding his own against his teacher, his teacher faltered. He felt It…it hit him right behind the eyeballs as normal. The distraction weakened his guard a little and Liam nearly skewered him.

"Tori! Are you alright?" Liam asked, concern coloring his voice.

"I'm fine, just a slight headache coming on. Come, your Mother will have lunch ready soon, I must be getting hungry."

"Sure, whatever you say," Liam said, but his tone revealed his disbelief of the excuse.

As they headed into the house Toirdhealbhach fully tasted the sensation he felt…yes…there was no doubt as to who it was. Marcus Arlenus, formerly of the 19th Legion of Rome, lost in the Teutoburg Forest along with the 17th and 18th. The legendary Lost Legions of Varus' last living member, and perpetual thorn in the side of Toirdhealbhach. He wanted to hurry, Marcus was dangerous, his mind had nearly broken in the German woodland, and while he could act the sheep he was very definitely a wolf. Still, Toirdhealbhach was shocked to hear Ciara scream. Both he and Liam ran into the house only to see the most horrible sight.

Ciara lay, bleeding from a open belly wound, her insides spilling out of the unnatural opening, her unborn child lay half in and half out of her womb. Toirdhealbhach heard Liam scream only to have his screams drown in vomit.

"Damn you Marcus! Must you destroy everything that is pure and good in the world!" he screamed in Latin, the only language the foul beast had ever bothered to learn.

"How, barbarian? How did she give you a child?" Marcus screamed back at him.

"You damn fool…she is the wife of my employer! The child is his…and you will die this time!" Toirdhealbhach launched himself to the former legionnaire, sword in hand. Marcus dodged, and parried the strike with his still bloody sword.

"Now is not the time for our battle, barbarian, there are too many eyes about. Meet me on holy ground and we'll discuss our…business."

* * *

Willow was moving as fast as she could towards the school, hoping Giles was still there. He legs were pumping, running hard . She was glad that she'd been running in gym class all this year. She ran past several former trick-or-treaters who were terrorizing a young mother and her baby. She really didn't pay attention as she made her way to the school from Buffy's house.

She came around a corner and screamed when she saw Spike standing in the road.

"Well, well…Red is all dressed up…Dru will be impressed," Spike said.

"What? " Willow said and then screamed again as Spike lunged toward her , but she managed to get the cross that had tucked into her back pocket out and he cringed.

"That wasn't very nice, Red," he said.

"Get away from me," Willow screamed, and he backed up a couple of steps, out of range of the cross.

"Red has spunk...and you are very beautiful. Shame to let it whither away, the sands of time are cruel to beauty. There is a way out," he told her casually, and she frowned at him.

"I'm not going to become a soulless monster like you," she screamed at him, and took off running, dodging around a crowd of monsters that had been little kids that morning.

"I'm not done with you, Red," he called after her, but the monsters surrounded him, trapping him long enough for her to get away.

She kept looking back, but he was keeping up with her. It was enough to make her almost think a dirty word.

"You can't run forever , Red!" Spike shouted, and she looked back, he was gaining. Damnit! She wasn't going to get away from him! What to do what to do? Then the worst thing in the world happened. She tripped.

* * *

Spike smiled as he saw Red stumble and go down, shame he couldn't make a meal out of her, after all the work she'd made him do, but he had promised Dru and he ALWAYS kept his promises...well to her...and mostly...sometimes. However this was one promise he intended to keep at any rate.

He leapt over a park bench and was on her in an instant, he stood over her and said, "Dru was right, you do belong with us in the Darkness, love. Don't worry, the pain won't last long and then you'll be like me. Strong and young forever." He inhaled deeply. "Your fear smells sweet, Red. Intoxicating. Never get that off of the Slayer, not that I'd ever admit it to her. Its really a shame we can't do this...ORFCK!" He finished clutching himself in a very sensitive part of his anatomy, doubled over, only to catch a face full of holy water...he face burned and he fell over in agony. Oh...she was FEISTY! He couldn't WAIT to see what she'd do to the Slayer when she was reborn into Darkness.

* * *

Giles heard a bang as the main library doors flew open, he turned to see a slightly disheveled, and out of character Willow enter. She was breathing heavy and her knees and elbows were scraped up.

"Willow! What happened, dear child?" he asked.

"People...turning into their costumes...Buffy thinks she's Barbra Eden...Xander thinks he's in the Army...Principal Stone...oh dear God! Principal Stone is...Principal Stone is..." she collapsed into tears as the stress of the night caught up with her.

Giles came over to her and she reached out and clung to him like a life preserver. He held her for a few minutes while she cried and then composed herself.

"Ok...now tell me what is happening? People changing into their costumes? And what happened to Ian?" Giles asked as Willow's sobs slowed.

"I'm sorry Giles...we don't have time...but...Angel staked Principal Stone...he's dead!" she said, barely keeping control.

"Oh dear...why did Angel stake Ian?" Giles asked.

"He thought he was a Vampire! He thought he recognized him...it's worse...Buffy called the police about it!" Willow said.

"Oh dear! And Buffy thinks she's..."

"Barbra Eden, we found an original Jeannie costume from "I Dream of Jeannie" at the new costume shop, it was expensive, but now that Buffy is getting paid...I talked her into buying it..." she stopped talking to fight back a new flow of tears.

"Who's with Angel now?" Giles asked.

"Xander, Oz and Cordelia. Oz didn't dress up and Cordelia is a cat," Willow said between sniffles.

"She actually turned into a feline? Incredible!" Giles said, intentionally misinterpreting the distraught girl, and having the desired effect, a small laugh came out of her.

"No...she's in a cat costume, she didn't change."

"Where did you say Buffy got her costume?" Giles asked.

"Its a new place, on High Street. Ethan's!" Willow said.

"Ethan's?" Giles said.

"Yes, does that mean something?" Willow asked.

"A ghost from my past come back to haunt me...you better go back to Buffy's house."

"But I want to help!" Willow protested.

"You have, Willow, you have. Now I'll take care of it, you go help Buffy."

* * *

Angel couldn't believe his eyes! Tori, or the...whatever that looked like Tori was sitting up, shaking his head. He heard Buffy scream again at this new sight. Angel went over to what looked like his old mentor. Once Tori's eyes met Angel's face he stiffened.

"Angelus! Get out of here kids! He's a killer! I don't know what kind of game you are up to demon but Liam's soul will rest tonight!" Tori shouted scrambling for a stake.

"Principal Stone! Angel is a good vampire!" Cordelia shouted.

"Miss Chase, there is no such thing as a good vampire!" Tori shouted.

"No...don't stop him. Go ahead, Tori, I deserve it," Angel said quietly.

"Huh?" Buffy said.

"I quite agree, Miss Summers," Tori said, "Liam...an tú atá ann?"

"Cinnte! Tori, táim...bhí mé mallaigh, le sin tincéir treibh. Ghéill cúl siad anam." Angel replied in the same language, meaning, 'Yes...Tori, it's me...I was cursed, by gypsies. They returned my soul so I would feel the guilt of all the lives I destroyed.'

"Damnaím iad...bheadh breis trócaireach má mhill siad túsa...ansin bheifeá saor téigh go do deireanach taca," Ian said, his words meaning, 'Damn them...been more merciful just to destroy you...then you'd be free to go to your final rest.'

Tá sé feabhsaigh, anois. Bhínn ábalta cuidigh daoine," Angel told him, which translated as, 'It's better now, I've been able to help people.'

"How RUDE! Speak American PLEASE!" Cordelia interrupted.

"Forgive us Miss Chase...now what is the situation since I was staked?"

"Miss Pretty in Pink called the cops because we thought you were dead...speaking of, why aren't you dead?" Cordelia responded.

"Thank God it's Halloween," Mr. Stone said. He took Angel's hand as Angel helped him up.

"The monsters are moving off, I think we're ok for the time being," Xander said coming from the front. "What's he doing alive?"

"Long story, Mr. Harris. A very long story. I suppose we can always hope that the police are too busy to come here."

"As piss poor as the cops in this town are I wouldn't be surprised."

Then there was a knock on the door.

* * *

It took Giles twenty minutes to get to the costume shop Willow told him about. He was hoping he was wrong, but he doubted it. He went into the darkened shop and headed to the back. Once he was in the back he saw an eerie green glow. It was emanating from a stone bust, a bust of Janus.

"Ethan! I know you're here, come on out! Only you would be behind something this...evil."

"Oh, come come, Ripper! Tweed doesn't suit you," Ethan said.

"End the spell, Ethan," Giles said.

"Or what? You'll assign me extra homework? You've gone soft Ripper!"

"No, I've only grown up. Shame to see you haven't. Now END this!"

"No. This is far too much fun."

Ethan then lunged at Giles, and tackled him, the two tumbled to the floor, Ethan tried to get his hands around Giles' throat, but Giles punched square across the jaw. This knocked Ethan off of him and Giles rolled and got to his feet, not as fast as his Slayer, but fast enough to deal with a git like Ethan Rayne. Ethan for his part was just a hair slower than Giles who slammed into him. The two of them hit the table that the Janus statue rested on, causing it to fall over and shatter. The eerie green glow faded.

"Oh, damn...you just HAD to ruin my fun, didn't you, Ripper?" Ethan said, Giles just glared at him, "Ripper...come on...now you have to admit that it really didn't hurt anyone!"

"You are irresponsible, you are cruel, you are leaving Sunnydale right now. If I EVER see you in this town again, I swear I will skin you alive," Giles said, not sounding anything like Giles.

"Ripper..."

"NOW Ethan! You have one minute to start moving or I WILL kill you right now."

"Fine...have it your way." Ethan said and started moving.

* * *

Ian went to the door and answered it and met Sunnydale's finest. "Yes, officers? What can we do for you?"

"We got a report of a murder at this address, may we come in and have a look around?" the officer said, he was of middle height and Ian was picking up a hint of a British accent.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I cannot let you in without a warrant, but there has been no murder here. Just a Halloween joke that got out of hand. If there were a murder here, I would have been the victim, as you can see by the fake blood on my shirt. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

The cops eyed him suspiciously. "Could you send the young lady out who called us?"

"Oh, I suppose," Ian agreed. "Barbara, could you come here, dear?"

Buffy edged around the door. "I guess I over-reacted," she said. "He's not dead, obviously, since he's talking to you."

"Thank you, Ma'am," the officer said.

"If there's nothing else, we have other calls to attend to," another officer said.

"No, nothing else," Buffy said.

* * *

Spike took another swig of the cheap whiskey he'd bought to cover up the pain of the holy water burns Red had given him. He was waiting outside the Slayer's house, until the cops left. The little git would probably be back here soon if she hadn't gotten back already. The cops left empty-handed, finally.

"Ok, boys, get into position. Lets get us a Slayer," Spike said and watched as the lackeys moved out. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and used it to light the Molotov cocktail in his hand, actually, it was napalm...love the anarchists cookbook. He went up to the Slayer's door and knocked. The door opened revealing a man in a very bloody Starfleet uniform.

"What is this? Started the party without me?" Spike asked.

"No, Spike. I'd heard you were in town. Now leave," the bloody Starfleet officer said.

"Do I know you?" Spike asked.

"No, but I know of you," the man said.

"Really? Then you know I don't bluff. You see this? Little thing I mixed up. The things the Yanks let folks know about. And so simple to make."

"Make your point? I've had a long day," the man said.

"Who's there?" Spike heard a familiar voice ask.

"It's Spike," the bloody man said.

"Spike!"

"Is that Angelus? Delicious...now kids, here's the score, this house is surrounded, so don't think about trying to escape. You will survive if you give me what I want, and what I want is the Slayer and Red. Give them to me and you get to live," Spike said.

"Is that all?" the bloody man asked.

"Yup," Spike said.

"No."

"NO? I will burn this house down." Then he heard a scream and turned to see...RED!

"Well, well..." Spike said, and set down the the flaming jar.

"You don't frighten me," Red said.

"Yes I do, remember I can smell it Red," Spike said.

"Hey! Spike! You kinda forgot something." He heard another familiar voice say.

"Slayer...oh...dear...that was rather sloppy of me. Ok...you win this one, but I will be back!" Spike turned and ran off, and heard the shatter and whoosh of his makeshift bomb go off and felt the heat. He turned and shouted, "You missed!"

"No I didn't," the Slayer said sweetly, then he smelled it and quickly pulled off his duster.

"Oh...that isn't right! I loved that coat!" Spike said and ran off into the night, followed by his surviving minions.

* * *

Oz ran out of the door as soon as he felt he could and not get killed. "Who was that creep?" he asked Angel.

"Old friend," he replied, and Oz nodded. He moved over to where Buffy was helping Willow up.

"You ok?" he asked her. She nodded, and threw her arms around him, and he had to hold her up as she started sobbing into his shoulder. "It's ok, Willow. Everything is going to be ok," he said.

"But what-what about M-m-mr. Stone?"

"I thank you for your concern, Lass, but it will take more than a stake through my heart to kill me," Ian said from behind Oz.

"Mr. Stone! You're ok!"

He put a hand out, restraining her from enveloping him in a hug. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Rosenburg, I believe I should take a rain check on your exuberance. I fear your wardrobe would not survive, considering how much blood I'm covered in, and I'm still a bit sore."

She nodded, hanging on tighter to Oz instead.

* * *

Buffy closed the front door to her house, glad that everyone had pretty much been ok even after all that had happened. The kids had been rounded up, delivered back to their parents, and Xander had even been rewarded with a double dose of chocolate, courtesy of her agreement with him. She looked at her staircase, and the yummy honey who was sitting on her staircase. And she smiled because Angel was all hers.

"Tonight was interesting," Angel said.

"Yeah," she said, "I don't think I'm ever going to dress up for Halloween again."

"I don't blame you," he said, stretching one arm out. She pushed off the door heavily, and curled up in his embrace a step below him.

"So, you knew Mr. Stone back in your breathing days?"

"Yes...he was my tutor," Angel replied.

"So not doing well in school?" Buffy asked laying her head on his shoulder.

"There weren't schools back then...or rather not like what you are familiar with. My family was reasonably well off and I was the first born son, I was expected to take over the family business when my father was too old to run it."

"So you were rich? Excited much about inheriting it?"

"Not really, the textile industry isn't very exciting, even if it is lucrative."

"Ah, and you had brothers and sisters?"

"Yes. I had a younger sister and my mother was pregnant when she was killed, it was the first real death I ever saw."

"That's terrible, how did it happen?"

"A monster, a human monster killed her...he seemed to know Tori...ah, Mr. Stone."

"What happened to the killer?"

"Tori said he'd taken care of it, my father wanted to do it himself, but Tori wouldn't let him. That was the last day I was ever truly happy until Darla did this to me."

"Do you trust him?"

"If that is Toirdhealbhach Ó Gallchobhair, he is the most honorable man I have ever known. I KNOW he'd lay his life down for you. If it is him."

"Tori-what?" Buffy asked, looking up at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Toirdhealbhach Ó Gallchobhair," Angel repeated patiently. "It's an Irish name, though the meaning of the first name is 'troublemaker.' Maybe it is Tori."

"You don't sound sure. Though I'm sticking to calling him Mr. Stone," she said, causing Angel to chuckle slightly.

"I'm not sure. The man I knew was alive, and mortal, heartbeat and the works. So does this man, but that was..."

"Over two hundred years ago. I see your point."

"Yes, but lets just recuperate for tonight, if he is a danger, it's longer range than just killing us and we have time."

"Good advice."

* * *

Giles had told Ian about Ethan once the little kids had gotten sorted out, and they went back to the shop together. "I wonder if he was the one in that Reagan mask," Ian mused. He had changed out of his costume into a dress shirt. He didn't put a tie with it or even tuck it in, but it was Halloween, after all.

"I don't know. If I had been aware of this place, I would have been able to shut this whole thing down before he got this far."

"Don't blame yourself for Ethan's choices, Rupert. He is a grown man, just as you are."

"I feel responsible for introducing him to some of the nastier magicks that he's gotten into. I mean, worshiping Janus?"

"That sounds like our boy. He doesn't take the deaths of others as the lessons that he should. You shouldn't feel responsible because he got into chaos magic and it turned him into its servant."

Giles pushed open the door that had once held the costume shop, but it was bare and empty now. "Well, looks like he's gone for the moment," Giles said, and he picked up a card sitting on the counter. "Even with what I told him," Giles muttered, setting the card back down.

It said, _Be seeing you._

_Fin._


	3. Chapter 3

For everyone hoping for an update to this story, you should look for the new story "The Immortal Principal" That is where updates are going. I've also cleaned up a the first two chapters. There is chapter 3 up already. I will be posting chapter 4 soon.


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